


Mark My Words

by skittenninja



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Antisepticeye Sean McLoughlin, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Darkiplier Mark Fischbach, Demonic Possession, Demons, I wrote this about a year ago, Paranormal, Supernatural Elements, and have already posted this elsewhere, because why not, but I wanted to post it here as well, spooky stuff happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:58:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 82,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16239290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittenninja/pseuds/skittenninja
Summary: One mistake. One mistake puts everything Mark Fischbach cares about in danger.In a moment of desperation and foolishness, Mark makes a deal with a supernatural being. Believing that this entity will help him, he deems it to be trustworthy. But he soon realizes he couldn't have been more wrong.Now Mark has to find a way to fix his mistake, before he and his friends become pawns in a game that's not theirs to play.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, two quick things
> 
> One: if you haven't seen the "Danger in Fiction" series, then there's a character in this that will be unfamiliar to you. You don't need to go watch the series to understand the story, as this fic is extremely far from canon, but I would highly recommend those videos.
> 
> Two: I wrote this about a year ago, so it takes place in 2017. This is why some things in the story are different than they are now (i.e. both Jack and Ethan have dyed hair in this fic, but they no longer do in real life).
> 
> With all that being said, I hope you enjoy!

Dark glanced down at his watch for the fifth time in the last minute. He had been standing and waiting in the same spot for the past twenty minutes. He was supposed to meet a certain someone here twenty minutes ago. They should've been done their conversation seven minutes ago. Dark should've been out of there six minutes ago. But here he was, twenty minutes later, in the exact same place. Still waiting.

Dark sighed heavily as he ran his fingers through his hair impatiently. Time might not exist here, but it certainly did where his associate lived. There wasn't a reason for him to be late. They had both set their watches to some random Earthen time zone and agreed upon a specific date. He looked forward to hearing his laughable excuse for his tardiness.

To top it all off, they had to meet here of all places. It was the only place where they could get down to business without arousing suspicion, but that didn't change the fact that Dark hated this place more than anywhere else in existence. And he had seen a whole lot of horrible places.

The space he was standing in was in fact not a space at all. It was the realm between dimensions, a zone that existed outside of both time and space. Everything was featureless and dark as far as the eye could see. There was nothing to differentiate here from there, simply because here and there blended into one big black abyss. It was similar to the space in between the particles in all matter. In between the dimensions there was space, or lack of space thereof. Even time didn't exist here. Your watch could keep ticking, but it would only be keeping track of time in your home dimension. Here, nothing would age. The passage of time was a foreign and non-existent principle.

Dark knew this place all too well. He had spent a long, long time in this abyss. The memories were still etched and burned into his mind.

_Two Officials forcefully dragged Dark through the portal as he struggled against them, shoving him to what he assumed was the ground. It was hard to tell when everything looked the same. Then they left, and the portal closed. Just like that, in a matter of seconds, he was on his own. His sentence had begun. And for the first time in his long life, he was scared._

_Dark had hope at first that they would release him soon, that if he was obedient and took his punishment without resistance they would lighten the sentence. But they never did. He stayed trapped there for God knows how long, wandering around aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity. Constantly having to stare at the unending void. No one to talk to. Nothing to do. Just his thoughts to keep him company. Wandering, and wandering, and wandering. The silence slowly ate away at him, driving him insane. He wanted something, anything, to happen. Eventually the silence finally broke something inside of him. It opened the floodgates that held an entire lifetime of emotions and memories that Dark pretended didn't exist. He began to scream. Out of fear. Out of frustration. Out of sorrow. He screamed in hopes that the noise would cause the silence to leave his broken mind alone. He screamed knowing that entire dimensions were being created and destroyed while he remained trapped in this empty hell. And he screamed knowing that absolutely no one would hear him._

The suffering and torture Dark had endured here all those years ago was still fresh in his mind. The memory of Their twisted, smiling faces as They watched him go through the portal forever burned in his mind. They were happy that he was being punished. They were enjoying his misery. He had been humiliated by Them, stripped of his powers and cast aside. Dark didn't enjoy being made a fool of.

Not at all.

He would make Them pay. Mark his words, he would make Them pay.

"Do you need a minute to cool down, or can we cut to the chase already?"

Dark turned around, searching for the source of the voice and realized that his acquaintance had arrived.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Dark spat, his annoyance ringing clear in the tone of his voice.

The figure before him simply laughed. "You're shaking with rage, Dark."

Dark looked down and realized that his hands were tightly clenched into fists, and his entire body was trembling. He quickly tried to hide his anger by clearing his throat and fixing his tie, but this only seemed to amuse his associate more.

Dark decided to change the subject before he could be mocked further. "You're late"

"Hey, I'm a busy guy. I've got things to do, places to be. Not to mention that tracking someone like you down in a place like this is extremely difficult, even for a being as powerful as the Author himself," he said, gesturing to himself with a smug smile on his face. He clearly took pride in his self-appointed title.

Dark rolled his eyes. What a load of bullshit. Dark had made sure to make his presence very apparent, and someone of the Author's skill should have no problem tracking him down in such a desolate place.

"Whatever," Dark muttered. "Listen, I need your help with something."

"I figured as much," the Author said, the arrogant grin never leaving his face. "So tell me, what are you planning this time?"

Dark smiled, regaining his sophisticated demeanor once again. "I'm sure you remember what punishment I was sentenced to all those years ago. After all, you received a similar one. My end goal is simple. I want revenge for the suffering They put me through. But my plan itself is a little more complicated. I don't have the strength to do it alone, which is where you come in. Your ability to manipulate reality is crucial, and as much as I hate kissing your ass, I need someone as powerful as you. I need you to write me a story. One that goes in my favour."

"A story..." A mischievous glint flashed through the Author's eyes as he spoke the words. "You know me too well. I haven't been able to write a good story in years. They took away so much of my power, therefor severely limiting my creative ability. Unfortunately, with the state I'm in now, I don't think there's any way I can pull off some extravagant plan, as much as I'd like to write another story."

"I know that your powers are much more limited than they used to be," Dark replied. "But you're still powerful enough to pull off this... "extravagant" plan. I've thought this all through carefully, and I know how we can work around the conditions They have set."

The Author chuckled at Dark's seemingly ridiculous claims. "They've been watching us carefully, you know. They aren't going to let any loopholes be exploited."

"Correction, They were watching us carefully. They've grown careless because They no longer consider us a threat. They no longer check up on me, or follow me around through the Earth dimension. They've even restored some of my previous abilities."

The Author looked at Dark in surprise for a moment. With the severity of the punishment They gave Dark, he thought They'd never give him anything even close to what he once had. This wasn't something he had been expecting to hear when Dark had said he wanted to meet up with him. Both Dark and him weren't as powerful as the last time they worked together, but if what Dark had said was true, if They really had grown careless, then they just might be able to pull this off.

The look of shock on the Author's face turned to one of suspicion. "What's the catch?"

"Ah, it appears that you also know me well. Since you're an... old friend," Dark struggled to form the words before continuing. "I might as well be upfront with you. All I need is for you to agree to a blood pact with me, and follow some loose story guidelines I've set. No tricks, no lies. For this to work, I need your complete cooperation, and lying would put us both at a disadvantage."

The Author paused for a moment, mentally debating whether or not he should trust him. Dark was ruthless and emotionless. He wouldn't hesitate to kill his allies if they got in his way. The Author had seen it happen, and he did not want to be in that position. But then again, Dark had never double crossed him in the past. In fact, he was the only ally Dark hadn't betrayed at some point.

But there was something else that was swaying his decision. The Author also had a desire for vengeance burning like a fire in his mind. He had wanted to see Their downfall for a long time, and this was the perfect opportunity to not only witness it, but cause it.

"I'll do it," he said, finally coming to a decision.

Dark looked at him with satisfaction. "I thought so. Rest assured, I'm being completely honest about my intentions. This will benefit both of us.

Now that we have that out of the way, I'd like to talk to you about the story itself. I've already selected the perfect protagonist."

The Author nearly groaned in dismay. He dreaded having to follow someone else's instructions while writing.

"I know you dislike having to follow someone else's rules, but I have a feeling that you'll take a liking to this character. You might have already heard of him. Does the name Mark Fischbach sound familiar?"


	2. Chapter One

_ June, 2012 _

* * *

 

_ 2:05 am _

Mark glared at the clock that sat by his bed. It was days like this he wished he could stop time, or at least slow it down. He had to get up early the next morning, and time was moving too fast for him to get enough sleep.

The dark-haired man groaned in frustration and changed positions yet again, desperately trying to get comfortable. Mark had been trying for hours to fall asleep, but nothing was working. His thoughts kept swimming through his head over and over again, refusing to let him rest until he paid attention to them. They had been plaguing his mind for a while now, but Mark knew that giving them attention could lead him to a dark place. So, he had ignored them, pushed them aside and focused on his day to day life. This worked just fine, until he no longer had something to keep himself preoccupied. With any possible distractions gone, these thoughts began to bombard him once again, disrupting his sleep and demanding that he appease them. But he couldn't.

It wasn't that Mark was unhappy, at least not the way he used to be. In fact, his decision to start a YouTube channel had made him happier than he had been in a while. The darkness held within his thoughts came from something else entirely.

Doubt.

Mark had tried to remain optimistic and hold a firm belief in himself, but every once in a while that dreaded word would fill his mind. That sickening "what if," that would make him question his decisions. He would dismiss it immediately, knowing he couldn't feed it and let it take over his every thought. Dwelling on it would only make it grow into something unstoppable, and doubt would kill his hopes and dreams more than failure ever could. But doubt is a funny thing. It never really goes away. No matter how much you believe in yourself or how much you accomplish, it always comes back, like a returning nightmare you haven't had since you were a child. All you could do was try to manage it, key word being try. 

So, Mark lay there, trying to manage it.

Having given up on the idea of sleeping any time soon, Mark let his mind wander to other places, trying to find a new distraction to keep the doubt at bay. He thought of simple things, like what he would eat for breakfast, what game he would play next, what he had to get done the next day. It was almost like small talk really, just something to pass the time while you waited for more interesting things to occur. But having small talk with yourself isn't really all that interesting, if one could even call regular small talk interesting. He would quickly grow bored or run out of simple things to think about, and he'd be back at square one. Trying, trying, trying and trying to manage it. And failing.

Mark glanced at the clock again, only to become even more frustrated to find it reading 2:17. How long had it been now, three hours? Four? He had lost count.

A soft tapping sound caught the man's attention and pulled him out of his thoughts. It started off quiet, but began to grow louder and louder until a roaring clap of thunder sounded from outside. Rain.

Maybe the rain would help him sleep. Mark rolled over for the umpteenth time, turning away from the object that kept reminding him of the hours of sleep he had lost.

And that was when he saw the figure standing at the foot of his bed

Mark felt his heart nearly stop as his entire body froze. Fear coursed through his veins, locking his body in place. He felt his breath catch in his chest, too scared to breathe, fearing that the thing would hear him. 

The figure was nothing more than a silhouette in the darkness, but it's outline was still visible in the dim lighting. From what Mark could see, it appeared to be human, but something was... off. There was something about it that Mark couldn't quite place, something that didn't sit right. Maybe it was the way it stood in an eerie silence, or the fact that it had remained completely motionless, not giving any indication that it was even breathing. There was just something that made Mark suspect that this thing was more humanoid than human.

After the initial panic had passed, Mark began to think clearly again, forcing himself to breathe in order to slow his heart beat.

_ It's not real. It's just a figment of my imagination. It can't hurt me,  _ Mark told himself over and over again, waiting for the thing to disappear. 

This had happened to him many times before. He would wake up to find this shadowy figure watching him, or a face staring at him in the darkness. Although they were terrifying, they never lasted long. They would always disappear after a minute or two, and Mark would go back to sleep.

But every other time, Mark had _woken up_ to find something there. The faces and shadows were simply just waking nightmares, dreams that managed to linger while he was awake. This time, Mark hadn't fallen asleep. At all.

So what the hell was at the foot of his bed?

"I'm not here to hurt you, I promise."

The sound of the thing speaking made Mark sit bolt upright, his heart hammering in his chest once again.

The figure chuckled, seemingly enjoying Mark's panic. "You don't need to be afraid."

Despite the intruder's somewhat comforting words, Mark only felt himself grow more terrified. That thing's voice sounded almost exactly like his, only distorted, as if there were multiple versions of him talking. None of what was happening made any sense, and the fact that Mark couldn't explain it made it even more horrifying.

"Who the fuck are you?" The now fear-stricken man said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Almost immediately after Mark spoke, the figure began to glow with an unnatural light. Soon the light illuminated the room enough for Mark to see the figure's face. Knowing what it looked like should've helped calm him down, but its appearance was jarring. Not only did it sound like Mark, it looked like Mark too, the only difference being that the figure was wearing a suit. The resemblance was striking, almost like he was looking in a mirror. A twisted and distorted mirror. The glow that surrounded the figure looked like some sort of 3D effect, as if Mark was staring at it without the glasses. This only confirmed Mark's suspicion that this thing wasn't human. After all, humans don't glow.

"I apologize for the intrusion, but it was necessary to talk to you alone. I know you have many questions, and I will do my best to answer them to the best of my ability.

For starters, allow me to introduce myself. I suppose you could call me your "guardian angel," or something of the sort. I was assigned to protect and help you, so long as you allow it. I apologize if my appearance is startling, it's simply because I'm _your_ guardian angel. I'm meant to be a mirror image of you."

Mark remained completely silent, trying to process the situation.

"How... Why...," Mark stuttered trying to gather his thoughts.

"I know it's a lot to take in," the being said, giving him a reassuring smile. "I don't expect all of this to come quickly."

A silence filled the room as Mark thought for a moment.

"So, if you're my... guardian angel, where have you been up until now?" Mark asked after he had finally collected his thoughts.

"Believe me Mark, I would have interfered a lot sooner if I could have. My powers are much more limited than you might think," it, or rather he, replied dismally. "I know you've suffered many hardships in your life, but I was not permitted to intervene for reasons even I don't fully understand. For that, I apologize.

But I've finally been granted the opportunity to help you Mark. Now I can make up for lost time."

Mark tried to formulate more questions for this strange being, but his thoughts were becoming sluggish. It was becoming increasingly hard to think, and his mind felt heavy, but he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe this ethereal situation was getting to him mentally, or maybe it was the lack of sleep.

"What do you mean by help?" Mark asked after a long pause.

"I mean I can guide you, give you advice. I know what you want Mark, what your dreams are. You want to change the world. But I'm sure you know very well that you can't do that alone. Which is where I come in. I can steer you in the right direction, act as a kind of muse, give you what you need to achieve your aspirations. Of course, I wouldn't be doing all the work, that defeats the purpose of working hard to achieve what you want, and I know you're a firm believer in that. I can just give you a little push, keep you on track. I can even appease the doubt that I know lingers in the corners of your mind. I can finally rid you of it. You just need to let me in. It's as simple as that."

The creature walked around bed with a confident spring in his step, stopping just in front of the young man. "So, what do you say? Partners?"

Mark forced himself to try to think the situation over, even though he desperately wanted to jump on the being's offer immediately. He tried to list the pros and cons, or look for any potential threat, but his mind was moving too slow to properly analyze the situation. He had grown quite lightheaded over the past few minutes, but for some odd reason he didn't really care, or even question it. His heart rate had slowed down immensely, and he felt oddly calm. Even after trying for several minutes to think clearly, he found that all he wanted to do was trust the creature.

"Okay, partners," he said, sticking out his hand to shake on it.

The being happily complied, shaking Mark's hand to seal the deal. 

"It's been lovely talking with you, but I'm afraid I must be on my way. There are several other matters I must attend to. I'll be back soon, I promise."

Mark's vision began to blur, feeling incredibly tired all of a sudden. He thought he saw the figure pull something out from his suit pocket, but he couldn't quite make out what it was. He was much too tired to care anyways.

"Good night Mark."

And with that Mark's vision went black as sleep finally overtook him.

* * *

 

Dark brought the needle up to Mark's neck, injecting the black ink from the needle into his system. The sleeping man's face contorted with discomfort at first, his breathing becoming more rapid as the ink made its way through his veins. Even in the dim lighting, Dark could see Mark's veins through his skin. He watched them slowly turn black as the ink moved through them, producing dark lines all across his body, as well as an additional black mark in the shape of an X on his neck. Mark gasped and wheezed, his body twitching violently as the lines spread even further. Then, just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Mark's breathing became regular, his body becoming still once more, save for the rise and fall of his chest. 

Dark almost pitied the poor guy. He had no idea what he'd just gotten himself into. Not that there was much he could do anyways. One of Dark's abilities was persuasion after all. He was able to easily persuade the victim into trusting him, sometimes without even saying anything. All he had to do was activate that power and the victim would feel the effects. It worked even better if the victim didn't know Dark was using it.

It was an ability Dark had missed using. They had only recently restored it, believing he would use it how They saw fit. How wrong They were. One of Dark's restrictions had been that he could no longer posses or control someone directly unless they agreed to it. He also couldn't blackmail or threaten someone into making a deal with him. But They never said he couldn't persuade them. He'd been stripped of that power when They set his restrictions, and in Their carelessness, They had neglected to realize this when They restored his abilities. 

Dark glanced at Mark one last time, looking at the marks he had left. The lines and the mark on his neck were already starting to fade, and by morning they'd be gone.

He smoothed his hair as he opened a portal behind him, making sure to look as professional as possible before meeting up with The Author again. Dark was glad he had chosen to take on Mark's appearance. Sure, it had been merely a ploy to convince Mark of his "guardian angel" story, but he was pretty damn happy with how it looked.

Stepping through the portal, Dark allowed himself to chuckle with satisfaction.

This was going to be fun.


	3. Chapter Two

It took a while for Mark to adjust to having an extra-dimensional being around. After all, it's not like this was a common experience. His newfound partner had a habit of appearing out of nowhere, scaring Mark at the worst possible times (like the time he appeared behind Mark while he was shaving).

He would also leave without giving any indication of when he'd be back. Mark had questioned him about it several times, but all he got was a "you'll know soon enough" in return. Though frustrating at times, this being's vague ways intrigued him. Mark wanted to know more about him.

Mark's curiosity led to another important question: Did this creature have a real name?

"Call me whatever you like," he replied when Mark asked one day. "My name is up for you to decide."

Despite being granted the opportunity to find a name for his guardian, Mark just couldn't decide. Nothing seemed to fit. Eventually, Mark gave up on the ordeal and decided it was better he didn't have a name. The being always seemed to know when Mark was referring to him anyways, no matter what he called him.

There were so many more mysteries that surrounded this entity, and it excited Mark. It all seemed so surreal, like something out of a movie. A work of fiction. Some days Mark questioned if any of it was actually real, or if he had just lost it. But his guardian was always there to reassure him, to take away his thoughts of doubt, just like he had promised.

In fact, his guardian had fulfilled all of his promises so far. He had helped Mark come up with some ideas, make decisions, and even helped him through bad days. He had become a close friend over time, someone Mark could trust. Sometimes it felt like he was the only person Mark could trust. This being seemed to understand Mark in a way it seemed no other human could. Mark could easily confide in him and trust that he would understand no matter what. There had even been a few times where Mark didn't even need to say anything at all. It was like this entity could read his mind, and considering the paranormal nature of the circumstance, Mark wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.

Things only got weirder from there.

After several weeks, his guardian had begun to visit him more and more frequently. There was less and less time between visits, and he would often stay for longer periods of time. Of course, Mark didn't mind this at all. He was happy to be able to spend more time with his new companion. But he sensed that his guardian was hiding something from him. He had become a bit withdrawn, and was often lost in thought. It had started to worry Mark.

"I have something to show you," the being said during one of his longer stays with Mark. "Or give you, I guess would be the better words for it. It's not exactly part of our arrangement, but I feel like you are worthy of it." 

The man felt relief rush through him. He had worried his guardian was hiding something bad from him, or that he was going to call off the deal, but it seemed he had been worried about nothing. That being said, Mark was also a bit scared of whatever it was this entity was going to do. This whole experience was still pretty scary, even after the weeks of adjusting to it. He was still unsure of it all.

"I know you're hesitant, and I understand that things like these can be frightening to mortals, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"

"Yes," Mark replied, now completely sure of his answer. This being seemed to have that effect on him. He was able to ease Mark's worries in even the most stressful situations without saying much, if anything at all.

"Good. I had hoped you would."

His guardian reached into a pocket on the inside of his suit jacket, and began to pull something out of it. Mark's eyes widened as he realized it was a rather large syringe, with a crimson red liquid held inside.

The young man began to back away, not wanting to think of what that liquid could possibly be, when the entity reached out and grabbed his arm.

"Don't worry, it's nothing bad, I promise."

His guardian's words made Mark halt in his attempt to escape, but he was still sceptical of the scary looking needle.

"What's in it?"

"My blood."

"What?!"

"It's necessary for what I'm going to give you. We need to make a blood pact, which means I give you some of my blood, and you give me some of yours."

"Okay, I'm no doctor, but I don't think that's safe. At all. How do I know that's actually your blood, or that you're not carrying some weird paranormal disease?!" Mark said as he became increasingly worried for his safety.

"I am not from this world. Even if I did have some sort of disease, you would not be susceptible to it. You're just going to have to trust me Mark. Please. Let me help you."

And with that, Mark felt at ease again. This being was his guardian angel. Why would he try to hurt him? All he had offered to do was give Mark a gift. There was no reason to be afraid. The fact that Mark had been afraid of his most trusted companion just moments before almost made him laugh out loud. It was ridiculous really, the thought of his own guardian hurting him. An impossible notion.

The dark-haired man nodded to the being in front of him, as if to tell him to go ahead and do it. A warm smile spread across his guardian's face.

"Thank you, Mark. You won't regret this."

He pulled out another syringe from his pocket, this one empty. "First, I need some of your blood."

His guardian stuck the syringe into Mark's left arm, drawing out a deep red liquid from his veins. Mark wasn't really phased by this. He had gotten blood taken many times before, and the ick-factor was no longer there.

Then the entity stuck the tip of the other needle into a vein in Mark's neck, slowly pushing his blood into the young man's body. Mark felt the warm liquid begin to course through his veins, slowly spreading throughout his body. The warmth of the liquid made his limbs feel limp, as if they were becoming too heavy to move. It became a struggle to stand, his body wanting to just collapse from the unbearable weight. As the liquid spread throughout his legs, his knees finally gave out, and Mark tried desperately to keep the rest of his body from following. 

After what seemed like an eternity, his guardian finally pulled away, the syringe now drained of its contents. Wrapping it up in a cloth, he carefully put it back in his pocket to dispose of it later. The entity brought up the full syringe to his neck, repeating the process that he had administered to Mark, only he remained standing.

The world around Mark began to spin as his vision faded. He felt awful. His stomach felt like it was revolting against him, and his head was pounding like a drum. He felt the rest of his body hit the ground, but the pain of his body hitting the floor felt dull and muted. His mind slipped into darkness as his eyes finally shut and blackness surrounded him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark awoke facedown on his bedroom floor, in a rather uncomfortable position. His body ached, feeling like he had just run a marathon in the Sahara. The exhausted man sat up, groaning at the pain the movement caused him. The realization that his guardian was no longer there suddenly hit him as he noticed that the room was now empty. 

"Hello?" He called out, doubting someone would answer.

**"Hello."**  

Mark shot to his feet, the voice with no source surprising him.

**"It's me Mark. I'm in your head."**

The young man realized that the disembodied voice was his guardian speaking, which confused him greatly.

"How did you..."

**"This is what I wanted to give you. I wanted to share my abilities with you Mark, and the blood pact has allowed me to do so. We have merged our two souls, connecting them for eternity. Now I can grant you my powers, so long as I am in your body.  I can show you marvelous things now. We can travel across dimensions, see things that no human has ever seen before, help** **beings** **humanity doesn't even know exists.**

**I need you Mark. I can't do it all alone. You keep me tied to this world. You can't do it alone either, because without me you are stuck here. But with this ability, this opportunity, we can do great things. Not just here but across thousands of other worlds. We can change lives. Together."**

Mark smiled as he realized what this meant. He could do finally what he'd always wanted to do. Change the world. Not only that, but so many other worlds he hadn't even seen yet. The possibilities were nearly endless.

He felt a newfound sensation coursing through his veins, the same way his guardian's blood had flown through him. It was a feeling unlike any he had ever known before, something powerful that resonated inside of him. Every sense felt heightened, his mind felt sharper, his body felt stronger. He felt invincible, yet terrified of himself at the same time. Mark knew this was his guardian's power that filled his being, their souls now sharing the entity's powers. The thought that Mark was lucky enough to experience this, to be given this opportunity, amazed him. It was absolutely incredible. 

**"So how do you feel?"**

Mark smirked as he uttered his reply. "Like a fucking badass."

His guardian chuckled inside his head, the sound echoing throughout Mark's mind.

**"I can't wait to get started."**


	4. Chapter Three

An odd sound caught Mark's attention. It resembled something close to a whimper, or a gasp for air, sounding like it was a laborious noise to make. Like it was difficult to make any noise at all. The pitiful sound was rich with despair, dripping with hopelessness, a piercing cry for help. It was the sound someone makes for only two reasons: pain and fear.

Mark began to try and collect his thoughts and figure out what was happening, but quickly began to panic as he realized he couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't feel. He couldn't remember. There was a huge blank space in his mind, devoid of recent memory. He had no idea where he was, how he got there or even what he was doing. It was all just a big empty blur, and questions Mark didn't have answers to.

But he could hear. That horrible, heart wrenching cry was very much present. It was torturous. Mark wanted to do something, anything to make it stop. To figure out the cause of the dreadful sound and destroy it. But he remained motionless.

Powerless.

Useless.

Helpless.

What the fuck was happening?

** Go back to sleep, Mark. Let me take care of this. **

The voice's command rattled throughout Mark's skull, wearing away at what little consciousness he currently had. He desperately wanted to obey, to drift back into what ever unnatural sleep he had been in, but something was stopping him. This nagging feeling that festered in the back of his mind kept him awake. He had a feeling that something was very, very wrong, and he needed to find out what.

Mark started to regain feeling again. It started in his feet, which were positioned in a fighting stance, firmly rooted to whatever ground he was standing on. Then it moved up though his legs to his upper body, which was pressed up against something, and then his arms, which were busy with something in front of him. As his hands regained feeling, a sickening sense of dread overcame Mark. His left hand was pushed up against something warm and almost flesh-like in nature. His right hand was tightly gripping some kind of handle, like the end of a tennis racket.

Or the end of a knife.

The sense of dread only grew worse as Mark's vision finally returned. He was standing in a dark, shady looking alleyway, with tall buildings both in front of and behind him. Everything around him was reduced to a silhouette, barely visible in the darkness of the night. Streetlights cast a dim glow from either end of the ally, creating long and menacing shadows of the few things that were caught in the faint light.

The scenery around Mark was a terrifying thing to wake up to, but it wasn't the glow of the streetlights or the tall shadowy buildings that filled him with dread.

It was the man in front of him.

With his left hand, Mark was covering the man's mouth, stopping his whimpering cries from becoming any louder. His body was pressed up against the slightly shorter man's, pinning him to the wall, with his arm pinned behind him at a sickening angle. The combined weight of both his own body and Mark's was probably breaking several bones. The man's left arm hung limp at his side, coated in a dark and sticky looking substance, his hand and fingers bent and broken so badly it hurt just to look at.

And finally, there was Mark's right hand and the other man's face. Even in the dark, the horrible mess in front of him was still jarring to look at. The poor man's face was completely covered in what Mark could only assume was blood, and it was still pouring from every part of it. His right eye, his nose, his ears, all soaked with the liquid. His face was so beat up and bloody he looked like some sort of zombie, a horrifying and deformed monster.

And Mark's hand was right next to it, gripping a knife that was creating a fresh new red line above the man's left eye. His hand had stopped in its tracks, remaining frozen above the man's broken face. The tip of the knife was still embedded in the man's shredded tissue.

Even though this poor guy was disfigured beyond belief, Mark knew that the man in front of him wasn't the monster.

Mark was.

The knife clattered to the blood-stained pavement as Mark released his grip on it, it's reign of terror over for the night. Vomit built up in his throat, the thought of what he had just done making his stomach churn. How had this happened? _Why_ had this happened? The gap in Mark's memory provided him with no comfort. His lungs refused to work, his sense of nausea growing worse by the second. It took all of his willpower not to throw up right then and there.

The two men stood there for a long time, both of them too stricken with fear to move. Both wore expressions of terror and confusion, the events of the night and the aftermath of it scarring them for life. Neither of them wanted to make the first move, fearful that the other would do something to counter it. Where would they go? Would Mark run home? Would the other man go to the hospital? The police?

After several minutes of their silent standoff, Mark was the one to move first. He broke into a sprint, darting down and out of the ally in seconds. His limbs felt heavy, his body and mind feeling completely drained, making running a struggle. But he couldn't stay there. He had to go somewhere. Anywhere. As long as it wasn't here. The thoughts of what he had done haunted him, tormenting him as he ran. He quickened his pace, hoping that if he was fast enough he could outrun the guilt. But guilt was faster than he was. Mark couldn't outrun this, no matter how hard he tried. 

Even though Mark was aware he couldn't escape this, he kept running. And he didn't look back.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Deep breaths. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

This was the mantra that Sam repeated to himself as he tried to calm down. It wasn't exactly easy, considering his own blood was staring him in the face. Everything around him was covered in it, the alleyway now painted a deep red. He could even still see the knife, the now sticky blade lying a mere few inches away. 

_ Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

It had all happened so fast. One minute they were having drinks in a bar and the next he was pinned to a wall, being sliced up like someone's Christmas dinner.

_ Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

He'd seemed like such a nice guy. They'd started off just making small talk in a little bar at the edge of town. They'd talked for several hours, getting to know each other. The man, who's name he learned was Mark, had even offered to buy him a drink. Sam hadn't wanted to get his hopes up, but it was hard not to. After all, he _had_ come to the bar looking for a date. Mark had seemed like a kindred spirit. They'd had a lot in common, and Mark had come across as a charismatic and funny guy. Despite his best efforts, Sam couldn't help but feel hopeful when Mark had offered to take him back to his place.

And then it all went to shit.

_ Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

Mark had grabbed his hand when they were walking down the street, causing Sam's cheeks to flush. Naturally, he had assumed it was a romantic gesture. 

How wrong he was.

Mark had tightened his grip on Sam's hand, then yanked him forcefully into a shady-looking alleyway. Before he even had time to react, Mark had shoved him into the cold brick wall of a building and punched him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. While Sam had remained to stunned to move, Mark took the opportunity to strike another blow.

_ Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

First, he'd aimed for the throat. Several strong punches and Sam could barely make a sound, his voice reduced to a hoarse whisper. 

Next it was his face and head as Mark had slammed Sam's head into the wall. A few blows to the face and Sam had known from the sickening cracking sound that he now had an alarming number of broken bones. 

Then Mark went for his arms. He'd grabbed the younger man's left hand and crushed it with strength that couldn't possibly be human. The snapping and breaking of his bones was absolutely agonizing. Sam hadn't even had time to make a sound, because as soon as he'd opened his mouth Mark had grabbed him by the throat. He'd pinned the shorter man's arm behind his back, and used the hand that was wrapped around Sam's throat to slam him into the wall once again. His right arm was then stuck, pinned to the wall by his own body weight and Mark's strong grip. Mark had started to lean on Sam, putting even more pressure on his trapped arm, breaking the bones in it.

_ Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

And then came the knife. The object of Sam's agony. Mark had run it across his skin more times than Sam could count, each time creating a whole new level of pain. It was a kind of pain that engulfed his whole body, burning every part of his skin. Over and over and over again, it had torn away at his flesh, leaving behind long and deep red lines that would serve as permanent reminders of his torture. His blood stained every part of his skin, painting it a disgusting shade of red, as if it were the canvas for some demented work of art. 

Only a psychopath would enjoy a work of "art" like the mess that was now Sam's body. 

And Mark seemed to be just that.

_ Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. _

But then he'd stopped. Mark's hand had stopped mid-cut, the weapon still stuck inside his skin. Mark for whatever reason, had decided to halt his violent endeavor. He'd dropped the knife and quickly backed away, but then just stood there. Staring. It had been nearly impossible to see Mark's face in the darkness, and with the blood flowing into Sam's eyes that had obscured his vision. But he had still been able to see Mark's hands trembling violently, and hear his breath become laboured. It was almost as if he had suddenly gone into shock. 

Then he'd turned and ran, leaving his psychopathic work of art behind, and Sam in utter pain and confusion. 

The wounded man didn't know why Mark had stopped, but it had gotten to the point where he didn't really care about finding the answer. He needed to move, to get out of here, to get help. He didn't want to die like this. He didn't want to die as a blood thirsty lunatic's magnum opus, as just some poor unfortunate soul who bled out in an alleyway. He had to start moving.

Sam painstakingly forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, ever so slowly walking out of the ally. There was a hospital nearby. If he could get there before he bled out, or better yet, if someone on the street saw him, he might get out of this okay.

_ Breathe in, breathe out- _

"I'm sorry Sam, but I can't let you leave. I started a job, so I'm obligated to finish it," a dark voice said from behind him.

_ Bang! _

There was no breath in.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mark sat on his bed, his nerves completely shot, his mind muddled from the lack of sleep. Getting a full eight hours was kind of hard when the guilt of brutally assaulting someone kept you awake. 

He'd been trying to remember how he'd gotten himself in that situation, but with no luck. One minute he was making dinner, the next he was soaked in someone else's blood. Mark had never blacked out like that before, and certainly had never cut someone to pieces with a knife before, so needless to say this was NOT a common experience. So what had happened to him last night?

And what had happened to the other guy? Mark felt awful about leaving him like that. He wished he had helped the guy instead of leaving him for dead, but it was like his body had been on autopilot. He hadn't been thinking about anything other than getting the hell out of there so he wouldn't have to look at the mess he'd made. Now, it seemed like a stupid move. 

Either the guy bled out, or the cops would come kick down his door any minute. To be honest, Mark would probably go with them willingly if they did hunt him down. What he did was deserving of punishment.

Wait... what if it wasn't him that did it?

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. That voice he had heard before he woke up, the exhaustion in both his mind and body, like they'd both been drained of power... no. There was no way that was possible. But that voice was undeniably familiar. The presence it held was one he was very familiar with. One he had spent the last few months with.

One he had let inside his head.

"I know you're listening. Get out here. We need to talk," Mark said, calling out to his guardian.

Almost immediately, he appeared in front of Mark, looking as poised and professional as always.

"You called?"

"Yeah I did. What did you do to me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Mark. Care to enlighten me?"

"I think you know very well what I'm talking about," Mark said, standing up and moving closer to the being. "Last night, the guy in the alley. That was you wasn't it?"

"I assure you, I don't kno-"

"Don't play dumb with me! I heard your voice, damn it! You used my body to torture that guy, didn't you? You used your freaky powers to get in my head, except this time you put me to sleep, so I wouldn't figure out your little agenda. Well guess what? I'm done. The deal's off. You are NOT using me to fulfill your sick little murder plots."

The being remained silent. For a moment, Mark feared his accusations were false. But then the creature in front of him started to laugh. It was a hollow, maniacal laugh, so unlike the warm and cheerful one Mark was used to hearing from him.

"I could keep lying to you, but I'm honestly impressed. I was almost sure you wouldn't even think to blame me, given how much you seemed to trust me. A foolish mistake on my part, one that won't happen again.

Yes, it was me. I was simply testing out my powers in your body, but I didn't expect you to wake up. I seemed to have underestimated you.

I've been using you. That's all I've wanted to do all along Mark. I need a pawn, and you happen to be the perfect one. I led you to believe that I had your best interest at heart, that our agreement would benefit you immensely. And you foolishly believed me. I had you wrapped around my little finger, and you were to naïve to notice. But now you've figured it out! Oh no, there goes our deal!"

The figure chuckled at his own sarcasm.

"Oh, we're far from through Mark. A deal's a deal, and it's not over until I say it's over. You finding out about my true intentions doesn't stop me at all. You're far too late to stop me. This is only the beginning, and I never intended to hide the truth from you forever anyways. Actually, things are _much_ more interesting now.

Mark my words, I'll come to collect your debt. And I will laugh as you tremble before me, and regret your stupid decision."

Then he was gone. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared, going God-knows where to do God-knows what.

And Mark was terrified of when he'd come back.


	5. Chapter Four

It had been ages since Mark had heard from his "guardian," or whatever the hell that thing actually was. He hadn't decided on what to call the being from now on, as his real name had never been revealed to Mark. "Guardian" wasn't exactly a fitting term for him anymore either. Maybe it was better he didn't know his name. After all, names had power, and Mark did not want to find out what that meant in terms of supernatural demon-things.

At first, Mark didn't go a day without thinking of the demon's threat. His words replayed in Mark's head over and over, like a broken record spelling out his inevitable doom. It was terrifying, really, having something like this hanging over his head all the time, knowing that everything could fall apart at any second. He tried searching up a bunch of weird voodoo crap on the internet, hoping that for once all of the superstitious stuff on there would ease his worries. Maybe someone out there had an answer to all of this.

His hopes were quickly dashed when the first website he found said this:

_Never make a deal with a supernatural being unless you can identify its species, and can confirm that said species is trustworthy. Think of it like determining if a plant is edible or not. Only eat it if you know for sure what kind it is, and if that kind of plant is safe to eat. A hasty decision can backfire tremendously, so think things over carefully. Making or declining a deal is much easier than getting out of one._

Basically, Mark had screwed himself over.

Every website he visited only told him not to make a deal, not how to get out of it. If he wanted help in that department, he would have to know what kind of creature he was dealing with, and Mark hadn't the faintest idea of what this _thing_ was _._ He'd assumed it was a demon, but it didn't match the description of any demon he read about. All of them were ever so slightly different, but that difference changed everything. No demon seemed to glow with a strange 3D effect, or form blood pacts with humans, or wear a suit everywhere they go. Then again, he was relying on the internet. Most of the useless stuff he had read was probably garbo made up by some crackpot anyways.

Fear of the unknown started to set in the longer Mark went without answers. He didn't know how to stop this, when this thing would reappear or even what it was, among a multitude of other questions. For all he knew, he could've guaranteed the apocalypse by making a deal with the being. He had to choose his next moves carefully, or risk making whatever fate he had doomed himself, and probably others, to worse.

Currently, Mark's best, and probably only option, was to wait. He didn't have any information to act upon, so any action he tried to take would be a shot in the dark. Not that Mark had any ideas anyways.

So, Mark stayed put, waiting for something to happen. But the anticipation he felt every day was ever so slowly killing him from the inside out. Even though he knew whatever that monster had planned wouldn't be good, the process of waiting for it was still painful. He just wanted to get it over with already, to face this entity and at least try to put up a fight. At least then he'd actually be able to do _something_ , even if it was just fighting a pointless battle. The longer he had to wait, the longer Mark had to go without doing something, and he loathed it.

Theories and plans of attack consumed nearly all of his mental energy. If doing something now wasn't an option, Mark wanted to be ready for when it was. If he was prepared enough, then maybe, just maybe, he could kill this thing before it could carry out its plans. He would lay awake at night, too paranoid to shut his eyes for even a second. What if it came back while he was sleeping? He could miss his opportunity! He wasn't going to be careless. Not again.

But a person can only continue to live like this for so long. Eventually, fatigue caught up with Mark, and he could no longer spend night after night lying awake. He began to question if trying to "prepare" was doing any good at all. What would he be able to do against a being with superhuman abilities, especially if that thing could control his every move?

Not only that, but Mark began to wonder if any of it had been real in the first place. It had been ages since he'd seen any evidence of the paranormal being, and the weeks he had spent with the entity were hazy and muddled in his memories, as if he'd spent them in a trance. What if he'd gone crazy and assaulted that guy in the alley, then blamed some demon for his actions instead of facing the fact that it was him? Was the guy in the alley even real? The more time that passed, the more Mark began to question what really happened. He started to become convinced that this "thing" was never real to begin with, that he had lost his sanity temporarily. The man didn't know which was the scarier version of events.

What had seemed like imminent danger gradually began to seem less urgent, and more and more like fantasy, something that Mark's imagination had conjured up for an unknown reason. He didn't have any physical proof that these events actually happened. All he had to rely on were his memories. But the mind was a fickle thing, and couldn't always be trusted.

However, Mark's lack of trust in himself wasn't the only thing that caused his state of denial. It also had to do with the fact that Mark didn't want to believe that he was responsible for all of this. He didn't want to accept the fact that he had let a supernatural entity use him like that, that he had sliced that guy in the alley to bloody pieces. The conflicted man didn't want to have been the one who potentially unleashed utter hell upon the world. Denying that these events happened was Mark's way of denying responsibility. If he pretended that none of it was real, then none of the consequences he would have to face were real, right?

Wrong.

* * *

Several months had passed since the... incident. Mark still hadn't told anybody about it, and decided that he would probably keep it that way. There wasn't exactly a "good" way to explain it. His family and friends would probably send him to a mental hospital if he just walked up to them and said "hey, I think I might've nearly killed someone who may or may not have been real, and then blamed it on a demon that I made a deal with."

This was something that was best kept a secret.

Besides, Mark had more important things to worry about right now than a set of events that his imagination had created. His YouTube channel had started to take off, and he wanted to focus more of his attention towards that, on looking to the future. Life was starting to go great for him. He had great friends and family, he was happy with where he was heading with YouTube. Why dwell on the negative when there was so much positive, especially when the negative was just a set of problems he made in his own head?

It would be best to stay focused on the situation at hand. Bob and Wade were visiting this weekend, and he wanted to be able to enjoy his time with his friends instead of worrying about pointless stuff. They'd all decided that they needed a weekend to just relax and hang out without worrying about projects or having to film videos together. It was a nice change in situation for all of them, and Mark wanted to make the most of this while he could.

"Mark?"

The sound of Bob saying his name brought Mark out of his thoughts. Both Bob and Wade were looking at him expectantly from across the restaurant table, both of their now empty plates pushed to the side. Mark could only guess that they had asked him a question of some kind.

"Yes...," he answered hesitantly, hoping it was a yes or no question. Maybe he could jump back into the conversation without seeming rude for not paying attention.

"What?! But you said no, like, two weeks ago!" Wade protested.

"People's tastes can change Wade." Bob said, a smug smile on his face. It seemed like he'd just won whatever argument they'd been having.

"Within two weeks?!"

"Maybe. It's not impossible for-"

"Okay, I'm gonna be honest. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Mark said, interrupting Bob before he could continue the debate any further. It was becoming clear that he wouldn't be able to rejoin the conversation suddenly without getting completely lost.

"Weren't you listening?"

Mark sheepishly shook his head. "Sorry, I kinda spaced out there for a second."

"Pineapple on pizza, yes or no?"

"Ew, hell no!"

"I knew it! See I told you, pineapple on pizza is gross! Even Mark agrees!" Wade cried triumphantly, earning a confused glance from the couple a few tables over.

Bob rolled his eyes at Wade's sudden outburst. "Whatever. You guys have no taste."

Wade sat back in his seat, looking pleased with himself, while Bob stared at Mark with concern.

"Everything okay Mark? You've been pretty quiet this whole time."

"Yeah, just thinking about... things. Lost in thought I guess."

Now it was Wade's turn to look concerned. "Are you sure you're okay? You know you can talk to us anytime, right?"

"Seriously, I'm fine. I just spaced out for a while. Nothing's wrong."

Bob and Wade both looked at him sceptically for a moment, but didn't protest any further, which Mark was thankful for.

Before either one of them decided to bring up the issue again, Mark decided to change the subject.

"Hey, let's pay for our food and get out of here. Maybe we could play some video games together or something."

"Sounds like a plan," Wade said as Bob called the waiter over.

Even though Mark had insisted that he was fine, he couldn't help but notice this sense of unrest he felt as they exited the restaurant. He hadn't exactly lied to his friends about his unusual silence. Nothing was wrong at the moment. He was supposed to be out having a good time with his friends, and he was. But there was this feeling that continually pestered Mark, tainting the experience. He couldn't explain _why_ he felt it. He just did. Like he'd told Bob and Wade, he was fine. Everything was fine. Actually, everything was much better than just fine. Things were going great. He should be super happy right now.

So why did he feel so uneasy?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Thud!_

Mark awoke with a start, the sudden loud noise nearly giving him a heart attack. A quick glance at the clock told him it was 3:00 in the morning, much too early for someone to be up. Silence filled the whole house, giving no indication that anyone else was awake. For a moment, the young man thought he'd imagined it.

_Thud!_

The second thumping sound denied Mark's assumption, proving to be very real indeed.

_Thud!_

Mark jumped out of bed, beginning to creep quietly out of his room. It was hard to see in the nearly pitch-black hallways, and this situation gave off a tremendous amount of horror movie vibes, which Mark did not care for in the slightest. He traced his hand along the wall for guidance, hoping he wouldn't bump into Freddy Kruger along the way.

Maybe all the horror games he had played were just messing with his head. It was more likely then bumping into a psychopathic murderer in his own hallway.

Instead of a serial killer, he bumped into Bob instead.

"Jesus Christ, Mark! You scared the living shit out of me!" Bob half- whispered, half-screamed.

"What the fuck? Bob? What the hell are you doing out here?" Mark whisper-screamed back at him. That was two near heart attacks within two minutes.

"I heard a weird sound coming from downstairs, and I went to go investigate, like any normal horror movie character. Was that you?"

_Thud!_

"Never mind then...," Bob said, his voice wavering with unease.

"Mark? Bob?" Wade quietly called from the staircase a few feet away. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Yeah," they replied simultaneously.

Wade crept up the staircase to where Mark and Bob were standing, the three of them standing in silence, wondering what they were going to do next. Was it a burglar? Or maybe something just fell over? None of them were entirely sure. And all of them were scared to find out.

"Should we go downstairs, or-"

"There will be no need for that gentleman. I'm already right here."

All three of them jumped at the sound of the menacing and echoing voice, the sound accompanied by a high-pitched ringing noise that hurt to listen to. The figure that it belonged to wasn't any better. His appearance was strikingly familiar to Mark's, the only difference being his hair, which was neatly combed, and his suit, which was freakishly clean. The being glowed with an eerie 3D effect, illuminating the dark hall, but also making it hard to look at him straight on. But most recognizable was his malicious smile, the one that looked out of place in comparison to his formal appearance. It could strike fear into the heart of anyone in less than a second.

Mark knew that smile. He may have only ever seen it once before, but it's a smile you can never forget.

Bob and Wade remained completely silent, standing in utter fear and shock, too scared to move.

"Lovely to see you again Mark! I'm sorry I kept you waiting, I know you were anxious to get this over with. I see you never bothered to introduce me to your friends. Normally I'd consider it rude, but I suppose it won't matter soon enough. They'll meet me properly sooner than you think."

The being stepped closer to Mark, making his blood run cold. He tried to run, to scream, to do anything, but his body was stuck in place. No amount of willpower could move his body, even though the situation was looking grimmer by the second. His body had frozen, refusing to obey him. This creature was controlling him again, he was sure of it. Only this time, Mark would be the one to get hurt.

"I can't really complain about being rude anyways, considering I never properly introduced myself to you. It's funny, you don't know my name, but your fans do. "Darkiplier" was the nickname they gave to me, I believe. I still can't believe they guessed it correctly. Well, almost. My real name is just Dark, but I quite like the addition on the end."

It was then that Wade tried to step between Mark and Dark, but black smoke began to emerge from almost nowhere, surrounding and suffocating him. It was so thick that it was completely opaque, acting as a wall of inky black death between Wade and Mark. The same happened to Bob before he too could try to do anything, the smoke rendering them both trapped.

"You can't run from me Mark. My plan is finally coming to fruition, and you are NOT going to get in my way! No one is! I'm done being ignored, being made a fool of. No more. Never again.

It's my turn now."

Dark's body dissipated into black smoke, the same kind that was currently choking Bob and Wade. It surrounded Mark, becoming a torrent of pitch black vapor around him. It began to enter his mouth, his ears, his nose. The vapor entered his lungs, filling them with the horrible smoke. He could feel it spreading throughout his body, burning his organs, his veins, his bones. Every part of him screamed for it to stop, but it kept coming, choking and burning and corrupting him, like it was flaying him alive from the inside out.

And when it finally stopped, he was left standing there in shock, gasping for air, the smoke now inside of his entire body.

With Bob and Wade staring at him, not with pity or concern, but with absolute terror.


	6. A Darker Perspective

Fear was a wonderful emotion. That is, when you weren't the one feeling it. Not in the traditional sense, anyways.

It was magnifecent to see someone tremble before you, to be the object of their terror. When you could see them so desperately try to hold a brave stance, to not show the fear that was the current epitome of their very being, and then fail miserably. Even those who claimed to be "brave" would eventually break character, discarding the courageous role they had tried to play out of desperation. You could see logic and reason go out the window as they cowered at your feet, begging for mercy. Sometimes it was almost better when they said nothing at all. When they just sobbed, knowing their fate was sealed. 

Those little signs of horror were amusing, sure, like the way their hands would tremble, or the way their breathing would become shallow and quick.

But it was the eyes that held the true beauty. 

They say the eyes are a gateway to the soul, and how true that is. You could put on a mask all you like, but no mask of bravery or determination could keep the emotion in your eyes hidden. They served as windows into what a person was really thinking, letting emotion seep through like rain through a leaky roof. You could smile and laugh your way through times of sorrow and grief, but your eyes would remain unchanging, reflecting the sadness that you held within your soul. Putting it on display for the whole world to see. Of course, the eyes are a window that not everyone looks through, and the few who do tend to not look close enough. It seems no one has the time to stop and stare into those windows and analyze what they saw, making it a bit easier to try and hide.

But there's only so much you can try to hide, and there's a whole lot more that you can't.

Dark was glad that fear was something that fell in the latter category.

The look on Mark's face when Dark had appeared before him was priceless. He could see all the visible signs of fear on the young man's body, and the non-visible ones as well. Ones that weren't apparent to the human eye. Mark's aura becoming unstable, his blood coursing through his veins at a rapid rate as his heart began to beat faster. 

Those were nice.

But his eyes. His eyes in those few minutes. _They_ were what gave Dark pleasure. 

Dark could see the realization, the sense of dread, the fear, the regret. He could see everything in those deep brown eyes.

His eyes held all that he'd wanted to say, every emotion that he'd felt and every thought that came to mind, and he hadn't even needed to say a word. This marvelous story had been told without any words or actions.

Just his eyes.

_ That _ was what Dark enjoyed most about this. It made the trouble of trying to "befriend' a person worth it. The time and effort that lead up to those few fleeting moments were completely worth while. As long as he could take satisfaction in the fact that _he_ was what they feared most, Dark was content.

This sensation was only amplified when Dark entered Mark's body. He could physically feel fear in every part of Mark's anatomy, that whole new perspective exhilarating Dark. He was able to experience the fear through someone else, their terrified mind acting as a filter. He could revel in the severity of the circumstance without being the one in immediate peril. The same euphoria about said circumstance was not present with Mark, but Dark couldn't care less. Nothing could taint this experience for him.

He could see through Mark's eyes, watching the world through the young man's point of view. Every sense, situation and emotion Mark experienced, Dark experienced too. He knew that he could easily manipulate these senses and emotions and bend them to his will, now that he and Mark were connected, but for the time being it was best to mostly just observe.

So, he observed.

He sat back and observed as Mark tried to explain the situation to Bob and Wade, observed their expressions shift from fear to concern and back again. It was amusing to watch Mark try and sort out this situation, even though he knew very little about it, and to try and put it to words for Bob and Wade, who knew even less than Mark.

He observed them try to come up with a plan of attack, and inevitably fail. Strategy was based off of knowledge and skill, neither of which many humans had when it came to fighting beings from other realms. How could you defeat an enemy you knew next to nothing about?

Dark observed them all sink into a state of pessimism and despair, tirelessly feeding off of their misery. Emotion after emotion enthralled Dark, each passing day bringing something new to the table.

However, the being knew that this pleasurable experience couldn't last forever, and sure enough it didn't. Human emotions were fleeting, and the pitiful feelings the group had felt began to fade away. Days passed, and the conversation was no longer centred around Dark and his plans. It moved to simpler topics, ones that didn't concern supernatural beings. It seemed they had given up on defeating Dark. For the moment at least.

It made it harder for Dark to watch and wait, now that his primary source of entertainment had dissipated. Having to sit through a human's daily routine was mind-numbingly boring. It took a lot of restraint to keep himself in check, to prevent himself from breaking free too soon.

That being said, Dark still allowed himself to have some fun every now and then. He had to keep himself preoccupied somehow, and it was never anything major anyways. He'd just subtly influence Mark, typically on camera. He'd act as the devil on Mark's shoulder, whispering messages to his conscious mind until it eroded away, giving Dark the perfect opportunity to take control. For the most part, Mark was fairly resilient, and was able to ignore Dark's words. This tended to piss the entity off. But every once in a while, Dark was able to gain a little control momentarily. He'd typically just to small things, like make Mark pull a creepy face or do an evil laugh, just in case anything more drew too much attention to himself. He also never maintained control for long, because overstaying his welcome would also not be a good idea. He'd let Mark come back and take charge again fairly quickly, leaving Dark to sit back and observe once more. Watching from the side lines.

Mark was always aware of when Dark had taken control, but it would take a short amount of time for him to fully realize what had happened. He would be blissfully unaware for a few minutes before it would occur to him that there was a small and hazy gap in his short-term memory. Both Bob and Wade seemed to know when Dark was around as well, and were very wary of "Mark" when it happened. Dark could sense their mistrust even through a Skype call. Even though they were both human, they could certainly sense when Dark's aura was more present than Mark's. Of course, the being could easily conceal his aura and let them believe it was still Mark that they were talking to, but where's the fun in that? Why not let his presence be known, and watch them look at their own friend with mistrust and fear?

And yet, even though they all knew that Dark was there, waiting in the recesses of Mark's mind, they did nothing about it. Other than a few glances of concern and hushed whispers about the seemingly taboo topic, it was like Dark didn't exist anymore. This was yet another thing that angered Dark, but it was easier to keep calm when he knew that their pretense that he didn't exist would be their own undoing. 

It was also easier to keep calm when he knew what their façade was derived from.

Fear.

The feeling that Dark craved.

They were scared of him. Scared of what he had planned, the abilities he had. Scared of what he could do. Scared of what he could make _Mark_ do.

So Dark remained silent, pacified by the fact that they feared him inordinately. Keeping his rage and his desire to be set free in check.

Observing.

Watching.

Waiting.

He knew that the day for his plan to come to fruition was nigh, the rising action of the story quickly approaching. Each day of waiting bringing him closer and closer to his takeover.

Mark knew it was coming. Bob knew it was coming. Wade knew it was coming. Dark knew it was coming.

They all knew it would happen.

But only Dark was prepared for it.


	7. Chapter Five

_2017_

* * *

"Hey Mark, is Darkiplier gonna come back soon?"

Mark managed a small smile as he read the comment, knowing this would be one of the sillier answers he gave. Or at least, what the fans thought would be silly.

He looked directly at the camera, flashing a sadistic grin before saying, "He never left."

Then, for dramatic affect, he began to laugh maniacally, in a way that was so over the top it was comical. He was only able to keep it up for a few seconds before cracking up, this time with genuine laughter. He knew he would probably edit the end out later, but he was almost tempted to keep it in.

"Well that's all for this Reading Your Comments video. I'll be sure to do another one of these soon, but in the meantime, leave some more comments that you'd like me to read down below. So, thank you everybody so much for watching, and as always, I will see YOU in the next video. Buh-bye!" Mark waved to the camera as he finished his outro, then reached to stop the recording.

These types of videos were always fun to make. It was nice to interact with the community, and hopefully fill the comment section with positivity instead of the usual scammers and spam bots. Plus, a lot of the comments gave him a good laugh.

However, the last comment that he'd read had left him a bit on edge. He was always cautious whenever someone mentioned the name Darkiplier because he knew what happened when Dark heard his name. Any mention of the being caused it to stir in the back of Mark's mind, which prompted it to try and take control. There were other situations where Dark would try and break free, but because the mentioning of the demon was the most common one, it was the one Mark was the most paranoid about. He'd have to make a conscious effort to keep the demon at bay whenever he or anyone else referenced the "fictional" character. Even though the creature was holed up in the corner of Mark's psyche, the thing was still quite powerful. There had been several times when Dark's willpower had overcome his host's.

Normally there would have been some sort of response from Dark after a comment like the one Mark had read. Diabolic whisperings that tormented Mark and ate away at his sanity, or that chilling and sinister laughter he'd been unfortunate enough to hear more than once. Be it big or small, there was typically some kind of reaction. But this time, there had been nothing. The entity had remained unusually silent.

The thing's silence should've served as a relief, but all it did was bring about more paranoia. The creature had ceased any activity over the past few weeks, and anytime in the past where Dark had become withdrawn or silent ended with some extravagant event orchestrated by the being. He seemed to like withdrawing from the world when he did any kind of planning, blocking out any possible distractions. Logically, this made sense, and it was something that many humans would do. But there was something unnerving about the way this entity did it. It was like his silence served as a warning sign to those around him, telling them to hope and pray that they weren't a part of whatever Dark was plotting.

Mark reading out that comment had been an attempt to test the demon. His recent absence had started to worry Mark, so he'd tempted fate by mentioning the thing's name, hoping the silence would break.

But it hadn't.

Which left Mark at a dead end. He had a few guesses about what exactly this thing would do next, what Dark could possibly be planning, but that's all they were. Guesses. Possible outcomes, not guaranteed outcomes. The young man had no way of knowing which one was right, or if any of them were right at all. Building a plan around rough estimates wasn't a good idea, as that plan could fall apart incredibly easily if those assumptions turned out to be wrong.

The only thing that Mark was sure of was that whatever Dark had planned involved the demon taking over Mark's body. This had been apparent from the moment Mark woke up in that alleyway all those years ago after being controlled by the entity. Dark needed Mark's body for something, but what? Why Mark? What was he waiting for? Who would be the next one to get hurt?

The young man decided to come back to these questions later. He had stuff to get done today, and worrying about such matters would interfere with that. 

So again, Mark pushed the thoughts of paranoia and fear to the back of his mind, promising himself that he would deal with all that later, even though that strategy had lead to nowhere good in the past. Pretending that nothing was wrong had only helped Dark before, giving him even more time to plot. But Mark still didn't want to face the demon head on, nor did he know how exactly how to do so, so putting it all off until he had more information seemed like his best option. However, ignoring the problem, pretending it's not urgent, doesn't make it go away. The problem is still there, waiting for the day when you can't ignore it anymore.

And this particular problem _hated_ being ignored.

* * *

 

"The night sky always looks so pretty," Amy marveled as they walked down the dimly lit sidewalk.

"Really? You can't really see the stars because of the light pollution, and it's not like LA has the Northern Lights or anything special," Mark replied, confused by Amy's appreciation of the city's nocturnal scenery.

"I still think it's nice. It's just really pleasing to look at, even if there isn't a whole light show to see."

Mark shrugged, still slightly puzzled over her amusement with something so simple.

He did have to admit though, it was a pretty nice night. It had been sunny and warm all day, and the night had brought a slight refreshing chill to the air. They'd managed to get a whole lot done earlier, so Amy, Tyler, Ethan, Kathryn and him had decided to go out for dinner, as a way of rewarding their hard work. All five of them had been starving by the time they were finished working anyways, so why not go out to eat together?

Then Amy had suggested they take Chica on a short walk, which then turned into a long walk, and before they knew it the sun had gone down. They'd ended up staying out a lot later than any of them had expected.

Not that Mark was complaining. It had been a wonderful evening.

A slight tug on his arm brought Mark's attention to Chica, who was attempting to move towards Ethan and Kathryn. They were standing just a few feet away from everybody else, preoccupied with something at their feet, with Ethan crouched lower to the ground while using his phone's flashlight to illuminate whatever they were looking at. Mark hadn't noticed them wander off, but they seemed to be quite invested in whatever they had gone over to investigate. 

"Guys," Ethan called. " You might want to see this."

The rest of the group walked over to see what Kathryn and Ethan were gawking at, with Chica trying to practically drag Mark over there.

Mark honestly had no idea what he was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't... _that_.

The group was gathered around what Mark presumed to be a squirrel. Or what used to be a squirrel at least. The animal was lying dead on the ground, its carcass covered in long and deep cuts, as if some animal had raked its claws across the creature's small body. Its eyes were rolled up into the back of its head, bulging out of the poor thing's sockets like they would pop out any second. Below that was its mouth, which was a whole other horror show. Its jaw was slack, leaving its mouth agape and revealing its bloody and bruised gums that no longer held teeth. It looked as if something had ripped each tooth out one by one, leaving short severed nerves and a river of blood behind.

Normally it would be safe to assume that a bigger animal got to it. But this wasn't normal.

This was a mutilated squirrel corpse lying in the middle of a park, the body of an animal that had been attacked and killed but not eaten by anything. There weren't even any flies buzzing around its carcass.

Though Mark guessed that the last fact probably had something to do with the thick black substance that soaked the creature's fur.

The sight of a dead and disfigured animal was bad enough, but the strange and dark substance made it so much worse. It wasn't like someone had dumped the liquid onto the animal. It was actually coming from the thing's insides, pouring from every cut, tear or rip in the animal's flesh, even now that the creature was dead. The liquid looked sickeningly viscous, flowing out of the squirrel's body like ink, collecting in pools around its corpse or sticking to its matted fur. The animal's finite blood was mixing with the seemingly infinite substance, creating a disgusting collage of crimson and obsidian.

Mark didn't even know how the mess before him was physically possible.

"What the fuck...," Mark muttered, the only one to say anything since the group had gathered around the... thing.

All of them remained standing there, unsure of what to do next. Even Chica remained still, no longer pulling towards the dead animal. She too seemed wary of whatever had happened here.

"So... what is that?" Amy asked.

"A squirrel. At least I think it's a squirrel," Ethan replied.

"We saw a bird fly over here to pick at something, and then immediately fly away squawking. We thought it was just a piece of trash or something, so went to check it out. We didn't expect... this," Kathryn explained to the group.

Mark still had absolutely no idea what had happened to the poor squirrel, and it looked like nobody else did either. But there had to be some sort of explanation for this.

"Maybe an animal got it?" Mark suggested, though he seriously doubted it.

"What kind of animal in a suburban LA park rips out squirrel teeth?" Tyler chimed in, speaking for the first time in several minutes.

"Fair point," Mark replied, knowing that Tyler had just voiced everyone's thoughts.

The group stood and thought for another moment, before Ethan picked up a stick and extended it towards the animal's corpse. This earned him several concerned glances from everyone else.

"What?" He asked quizzically.

"Don't poke it!" Kathryn cried, pulling his arm away.

"It's fine! The squirrel's dead, it's not like it's gonna do anything."

Kathryn reluctantly let go of Ethan's arm, allowing him to prod the carcass in front of them. Ethan was right, the squirrel didn't move, and remained completely lifeless. However, a poke from the stick did result in more of the black substance coming out, coating the tip of the stick. It made a revolting sucking sound as it poured out, like a nearly empty shampoo bottle being squeezed, causing Mark to shudder in disgust.

Ethan pulled the stick away, looking at the strange black liquid with contempt. He pulled it closer to his phone's flashlight to inspect the substance further, his facial expression turning from one of disgust to confusion after staring at it for a few moments.

"Is this... ink?"

"Correct," said a male voice from behind them.

All five of them turned quickly to find the source of the voice, their surprise quickly turning to fear as they discovered a shadowy figure standing only a few feet away. Ethan tried moving the phone's flashlight to the figure to reveal his face, but it mysteriously went out every time he tried, keeping the guy's identity a secret.

How someone had managed to sneak up behind the group in a silent and empty park was beyond any of them, but nonetheless, he'd somehow managed to do it.

"Sorry for the mess, I was just running a few tests. Didn't expect things to get so out of hand," The figure continued as he started to move closer to the group.

The five of them exchanged skeptical glances, wary of the stranger, before Tyler spoke up.

"So you did this?"

"Yes and no," the figure answered. "It's a bit of a complicated situation. It's not really important anyways. We've got more pressing matters to attend to."

"We?" Mark said, the word coming out in a questioning manner. He was starting to get a really bad feeling about this.

"Yes, we. As in you and me, Mark."

That really bad feeling of Mark's only grew worse after the young man heard these words. How did this guy know his name?

"I don't think we've ever formally met, so allow me to introduce myself. I'm an author, the writer of many best sellers. You've probably even read some of them. I've gone through a great deal of pen names and pseudonyms during my career, so it really doesn't matter what you call me. My associates, or _associate_ , I should say, calls me "The Author." This is a self-proclaimed title, but it will suffice for the time being."

"The Author" pulled out something rectangular from his coat pocket, which Mark realized was a notebook of some kind. The cover was leather, with a small strand of the material acting as a bookmark. The leather strip was placed only a few pages in, meaning the notebook had barely been used. For now anyways.

"Like I said before, none of these topics really matter," The Author continued. "It's not the character's jobs to know the author's name. In fact, the characters shouldn't even interact with the author in this manner."

Mark's blood ran cold at the word "characters." He tried to open his mouth to say something, to object, to protest, to question, but the figure before him began to speak again before Mark could get a word out.

"We weren't supposed to meet for another hour or so, but I don't think Dark will mind if we're a little bit ahead of schedule. He _has_ been waiting a very long time for this."

To the rest of the group, the name Dark meant nothing. But to Mark, that name meant everything, and not in a good way. It was the name he had been avoiding for so long, the name he'd hoped he'd never have to hear again. It was the name of all of the fear and regret that Mark had felt over all of these years, letters that were directly associated with terror itself. It was the name of the monster that tormented Mark, one that he had let manipulate him. The puppet master in the horrific puppet show that Mark's life was quickly becoming.

It was the name of Mark's mistake.

The Author flipped open his notebook to a page that had been bookmarked before taking out a simple ball point pen, bringing the edge of it up to the page.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

The figure's hand began to move across the paper, dragging the pen along with it and tracing out the letters to a collection of words. For a moment, nothing happened. The group remained perplexed by The Author's actions, looking at him in confusion.

But then something strange happened.

Mark started to feel an odd sensation coming from inside of his body. It started off small, hardly noticeable with all of the other things that flooded his senses, but rapidly began to grow more and more powerful each second. It was like something was moving inside of him, making its way though his anatomy and finding a home within his organ systems. He felt his muscles become numb and limp as the sensation extended even further, weighing down on his body.

The young man felt a pressure build up in his lungs when the feeling reached his chest, unfurling throughout his upper body. The sensation made it feel like a snake had coiled itself around Mark's torso, slowly squeezing out the oxygen in his lungs and making it difficult to breathe.

Inhaling became a major struggle, causing Mark to gasp for air, suffocating because of an invisible and unknown force.

His wheezing brought the group's attention away from The Author, his gasps for oxygen concerning them.

Ethan moved his phone in Mark's direction, hoping to shed some light on whatever ailed him.

"Mark, what's- holy shit!"

The light from the phone's flashlight revealed the problem alright, but it wasn't an easy problem to look at. The beam illuminated a problem that was paranormal in nature, one that none of them could explain. Covering Mark's flesh were thin black lines that ran up and down his entire body, connecting and spreading like a black spider web. The lines were made even more apparent by his now pale skin, making the contrast between his complexion and the dark web much more substantial than it should have been. Mark was heaving and gasping for air like his lungs had suddenly failed him, his whole body visibly trembling with each laboured breath.

The pained man turned slightly, fully facing the rest of the group, which allowed them to properly see his face. Unsurprisingly, it was covered in the inky lines like the rest of him. But that wasn't all. From his eyes poured pitch black tears, flowing from his tear ducts uncontrollably. They rolled down his paled cheeks at slow and steady pace, leaving several dark trails in their wake, like he was crying ink.

All of them watched in horror as the dark spindles on Mark's skin made their way towards and into his eyes, blotting out the whites and slowly eclipsing his brown irises with darkness. Any fear, despair, pain, or really any emotion at all, was hidden behind the inky shadow, locking it away from the world. The darkness now served as a paranormal curtain for the windows to Mark's soul, cutting it off from everyone else.

Somehow all of them managed to not scream at the sight.

"Alright, this next part might hurt a bit," The Author said, sounding almost happy about it.

A sharp pain drilled into Mark's head, pounding at his skull, his teeth, his brain. It was only a matter of time before the pain consumed the rest of his body, crushing every nerve and every organ. He couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't think, the agony taking over every sense and thought. Mark was only vaguely aware of his body hitting the ground as his legs gave out, the voices of his friends screaming his name reduced to muffled vibrations. Nothing else mattered at that moment, because every synapse in his body was screaming just one thing.

Pain. 

Pain. 

_ Pain. _

And then that pain manifested into something else entirely. It morphed into something with a voice and a mind, a living and breathing thing inside of every nerve in Mark's body. The simple sensation shifted into something substantial, something that carried a kind of presence, like there was another soul inside of Mark. He could feel the presence of that soul grow more and more powerful, monopolizing and overpowering his own, pushing him into a space within himself he didn't even know existed. Shifting, and growing, and manifesting. Mark was fading fast, being pushed further and further to the back of his own mind, but he was still able to recognize the presence that was repressing him. He even knew its name.

Dark.

** Sweet dreams, Mark. **

* * *

 

Amy could feel her throat becoming raw from screaming Mark's name, but she didn't care. It didn't matter. Her galloping heart and panicked lungs didn't matter, nor did the tears that had begun to well up in her eyes. Nothing else mattered in that moment except for saving Mark.

But that was hard to do when they didn't even know what was wrong.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Ethan type out a number into his phone, then bring it up to his ear. She assumed, she _hoped_ , that he was calling an ambulance. Maybe they'd get here in time to stop whatever was happening, if it wasn't already too late.

Ethan had barely opened his mouth to speak when the phone started sparking, singeing his palm and causing him to cry out in surprise. The sparking only grew worse, burning Ethan's hand and forcing him to drop the malfunctioning device to the ground. Amy was worried it would start a fire, but it exploded before the sparks could spread anywhere else, leaving a tiny crater in the grass next to them that was somehow devoid of any flames.

Now that their primary source of light was gone, Amy could no longer see anyone else's face. But she assumed they all looked as terrified as she did.

The group sat in stunned silence, in shock from the events that had transpired. None of them said a word, mostly because none of them knew what to say. The heavy silence hung over them like a cloud. The only one of them to make any sound at all was Chica, who was laying at Mark's side and softly whimpering. The poor thing was scared out of her mind.

They all were.

But the absence of noise allowed for another sound to become more apparent, one they had almost forgotten about. The sound of a pen scratching away at paper caught Amy's attention once again, bringing her gaze back to the shadowy stranger beside them. He seemed unfazed by the fact that Mark had just dropped to the ground unconscious, continuously writing without a care in the world. It quite honestly made her angry, the way he stood there without helping, but there was another possibility that made her even angrier.

Could he somehow be the one doing all of this?

"Hey!" Tyler called to the figure, standing up in a hurry. It seemed he had also been reminded of the shadow's presence.

The figure didn't respond.

"Call nine-one-one! Please!" Tyler slowly moved towards the figure, growing visibly more agitated by the figure's lack of action in such a dire situation.

The figure still didn't respond, his attention completely focused on his little notebook.

"Hello? Please, we need help!"

Silence.

"DO SOMETHING!" Tyler screamed at him, swiftly walking towards the figure. But he was only able to make it a couple of steps before he was knocked backwards, like the air itself had picked him up and tossed him.

Tyler flew through the air and landed quite a distance away, the thing that halted his moment unfortunately being a tree. He hit the trunk with alarming force, the impact making a sickening thud, before he collapsed at its base. He remained unmoving, either unconscious or in too much pain to get up. Amy didn't know which option was the better one.

"Sorry, pal," the figure chuckled, his gaze never diverting from his book. "Didn't mean to throw you that hard."

Kathryn was the first to try and go help Tyler, but wasn't able to get far. The grass that she had been kneeling on extended out of the ground and grabbed her, pulling her back to her spot. The same thing happened when Amy and Ethan tried to move anywhere, preventing them from getting to the potentially unconscious man.

The group could hear The Author laugh with enjoyment as he watched them struggle, satisfied with their failure.

Now it was Amy's turn to get angry. She picked up a rock from the ground and chucked it at the figure's head as hard she could. It would've hit the guy right in the forehead, and probably would've knocked him out, if he hadn't moved his head at the last second. With amount of force Amy had used to throw the rock and the small amount of distance between her and her opponent, the rock had been coming at the guy incredibly quickly. It should've been impossible to avoid, but he was able to dodge it with unnatural speed, not even looking up from his work.

"If it makes you feel any better, you've got great aim," he said, amused by Amy's efforts.

Amy could only groan in frustration, now knowing that she couldn't even touch the figure without it failing or backfiring horribly. 

Kathryn let out a small cry of surprise, startled by whatever had happened while Amy was "talking" with the figure. The smell of burnt metal and plastic filled the air again, leading Amy to believe that Kathryn had tried what Ethan had moments ago, which meant that they were down another cell phone. Amy pulled out her own phone as a last resort, but wasn't entirely shocked when hers exploded on the spot as well, remaining unstartled by the sparks and noise. The sounds of the miniature explosions did seem to startle Chica however, her body trembling with fear. But despite the chaos and loud noises, she still remained by Mark's side.

Unfortunately, they were running out of options, and fast. Who knew what was happening to Mark right now? He could be mere seconds away from death.

Amy was about to consider trying to pick him up and carry him out of the park somehow, when the man in question suddenly sat bolt upright. His sudden movement caused the group to reel back in surprise, confused as to how he went from gasping for air whilst unconscious to wide awake in seconds.

Their confusion didn't stop there. Almost immediately, Mark got up from the ground and brushed off his clothes, as if he'd been sitting down on the grass having a picnic and not covered in unnatural black lines. He stepped out of the protective circle the group had formed around him as if none of them were there, smoothing out is hair as he did so. The young man was even quietly humming to himself as he strode away from everyone, apparently content with life. He seemed totally nonchalant about the whole situation, which was incredibly concerning.

"Mark? Are you-," Amy began.

"I'm sorry, but Mark's not here at the moment," Mark said, cutting her off. "I could take a message if you'd like, but it will be quite a long time before he'll be able to get back to you."

His voice had a dark and threatening undertone to it, seeming unnaturally deep, even for him. There was a strange echo to it, one that shouldn't have been possible without the use of technology, and a persistent high-pitched ringing noise along with it. The sound echoed and bounced around inside Amy's skull, sending shivers down her spine and making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

It didn't sound natural. At all.

"Mark" turned back around to face the group, but it was still too dark to see his face. The shadows did make him look pretty terrifying though, concealing his expression in darkness. The way he stood was also unsettling. His posture was unusually stiff and poised, his shoulders back and his spine perfectly straight. He had an air of supreme confidence about him, like he was absolutely sure of himself in a way that bordered on arrogance. 

Everything about him seemed so... un-Mark like.

"Sorry to scare you all, but it was the only way to... escape, so to speak. Though painful for Mark, it's a much more effective way of subduing him."

The young man started to glow with a red and blue light, finally illuminating the area around them once more. How, Amy didn't know. The light looked like it was radiating off of his skin itself, which shouldn't have been possible. Then again, nothing else that had taken place tonight should have been possible, and yet it was.

The eerie light allowed his face to be seen once again, but it was haunting to look at. The strange lighting cast weird shadows over it, and his skin was still deathly pale. There were dark rings around his eyes, making them look sunken, like he hadn't slept in days. Black lines no longer covered his face, but there was still a faint dark X-shaped mark on his neck. The colours in his eyes also seemed to be back to normal, but there was something off about them that Amy couldn't quite place. The way he looked at them just seemed... wrong. Even Chica was uneasy. She cowered behind Amy, scared of the man she had just tried to comfort.

Only one thing the man had said so far made any sense, and that was that this person definitely wasn't Mark.

"So, just to clarify, you're not Mark?" Kathryn asked.

"Correct."

"So, who are you then? And what about Mark?"

"All of you know who I am, you just don't think I'm real. I'm the thing that has been forced to observe, that has been imprisoned in Mark's mind for years, patiently awaiting for my time to come. I've been made a mockery of, a laughing stock, a running "joke" for everyone. A fictional character used for other's enjoyment. But now is no longer the time for such enjoyment. I am neither a work of fiction, nor a joke.

My name is Darkiplier.

And I am very, very real."

And with that, he and The Author walked away together, the latter scribbling one last thing before finally closing his notebook. The group tried to stand up and chase after them, only to be stopped by an invisible wall. Despite the group's best efforts, they couldn't walk past a certain point, like someone had placed a sheet of indestructible glass in front of them. They began to call after the duo, screaming and banging on the invisible force, but to no avail. The two moving figures didn't even turn their heads.

All they could do was watch in horror as Mark, or rather Dark, picked Tyler up from under the tree he had smacked into and effortlessly carried him away. Given that Tyler didn't move or struggle in the slightest, it would seem that the impact from hitting the tree really had knocked him out.

The realization that there was absolutely nothing any of them could do slowly dawned on the group, who began to cease any attempts to follow Dark and The Author. Defeated, they could only stand back and watch as the duo disappeared into a cluster of trees, without knowing what exactly had just happened, or what would happen next.


	8. Chapter Six

Ethan never thought the numbers on a digital clock could look so ominous. In horror movies, it was always the rickety and antique grandfather clocks that were used to set the mood. The loud and foreboding ticking on top of the haunting echo of the hourly chimes were perfect for setting just the right creepy atmosphere. Digital clocks usually just didn't have the same effect. There was nothing mysterious or interesting about them, no creepy face or broken pendulum. Just some glowing numbers.

But somehow those glowing numbers still filled Ethan with a revolting sense of anxiety, doing a better job than any grandfather clock could at setting the mood on this particular night.

The group, which now consisted of just Ethan, Kathryn, Amy and Chica, was sat in Ethan's apartment, contemplating what to do about the set of events that had occurred a couple of hours ago. The invisible wall that had appeared in the park turned out to actually be an invisible box, which had left them trapped there for quite some time. After about an hour or so it finally went away, but by then Dark, The Author and Tyler were long, long gone. None of them had any clue as to where the three would be, so following them had still been out of the question. They'd come to the conclusion that they should head somewhere to regroup and think things over before making their next move, and Ethan's apartment had been the closest. So that's where they now sat, a couple of hours later.

Another glance at the ominous digital clock across from him told Ethan it was now 11:42 pm, exactly one hour since they'd gotten to his apartment, roughly one hour and fifteen minutes since they'd been freed from their invisible prison and approximately two hours since Mark and Tyler had gone missing. So much time that could've been used to find their friends, wasted, and who knew how much more time would pass before Tyler and Mark would finally reappear. Precious minutes, ticking away, valuable time that could've been used to save their lives now gone.

This is was what the clock kept reminding Ethan, and what made it so ominous. The fact that each silent change in the digits meant that they had lost another minute to find Tyler and Mark was making him anxious. What if they were missing their chance to save them? What if their chance to save them had passed long ago, with no indication that their time was up other than a silent and inconspicuous change in the glowing numbers?

Each passing minute made Ethan more and more tempted to punch the clock, just so he wouldn't have to be reminded of the lost time.

"Are we gonna do something?" He finally asked.

"Like what?" Kathryn asked.

"I don't know, something. Anything."

"We can't exactly do too much," Amy cut in. "We have no idea where Mark and Tyler are right now, or if they're coming back."

"What if we go to the police?"

"And tell them what?" Kathryn asked. "What are we going to report? That our friend was magically thrown across a park and knocked out? That we think our other friend was possessed? They'll think we're crazy!"

Ethan said nothing in response, realizing that she had a point. The cops would never believe them, and they wouldn't have anything useful to tell them anyways. There had been no indication as to where The Author and Dark had been heading, or what they were going to do to Tyler.

"What if we went out and searched?" He said.

"That's not really an option either," Amy replied dismally. "LA is a huge city, and we don't have any clues to narrow down our search. We don't even know if they're still in LA."

Ethan grew quiet again, his arguments countered once more. He'd kind of known from the start that arguing was pointless, and that his poorly planned ideas would be shot down easily, but he'd still wanted to try anyways. He just wanted to do anything besides sit and hope, to at least suggest that they take action. It wasn't much, but it was something.

The digital clock caught his eye again, this time reading 11:58. 16 more minutes gone, and 16 more minutes of not knowing if Mark and Tyler were okay.

"When do you think they'll be back?" Ethan asked, trying to fill the silence.

"I don't know," Amy answered sombrely. 

It seemed any attempt at conversation ended morosely, so Ethan begrudgingly decided to remain quiet. He didn't really have anything left to say anyways.

The silence didn't remain for long however, because only couple of minutes later there was a knock at the door. The group was startled by the sudden noise, but also confused by it. Who would be knocking at this hour? And why?

Ethan was the one to move to get the door, it being his apartment and all, swiftly making his way towards the entrance. For whatever reason, he decided against looking through the peephole to check who it was. He felt oddly compelled to open the door without hesitation, his arm being drawn to the handle like a magnet against his will.

The person knocking at the door turned out to in fact be two people.

Mark and Tyler.

Or rather, Dark and Tyler.

The former could've been mistaken for Mark at first glance, but the slight red and blue glow gave away his true identity. With the pale skin, odd glow, sunken eyes and stiff posture, it was clear that Mark was still absent.

The latter didn't look much better. His skin was also pale, an unhealthy shade of white. There were several bags under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in ages, even though it had only been a couple hours since they last saw him. He was breathing heavily, obviously exhausted from whatever had been done to him while he was gone, though Ethan couldn't begin to guess what that was. In all honesty, Tyler looked like he would pass out any second.

The most alarming part of Tyler's appearance was the faint remains of black lines across his pale flesh. They were identical to the ones the group had seen cover Mark, only the ones on Tyler didn't seem very recent. Ethan had a feeling that if his skin was at its normal pigment, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

Even though the lines were hardly present, they were still incredibly concerning. Their appearance on Tyler's body meant that whatever had happened to Mark was happening to Tyler, and they did _not_ need another demonic possession tonight.

"Good evening," Dark said. "Sorry that we're a bit late. Got caught up with a few things. We meant to arrive at 11:00, but this guy here put up quite a fight." He gestured to a terrified looking Tyler.

"Well, we're here now. We can easily make up for lost time. In fact, Mark should be here any moment now."

And with that, Dark's eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he started to crumple to the ground. The 3D effect disappeared as he fell, meaning that Dark had hopefully left. Tyler reached out instinctively to catch him, preventing him from falling all the way to the ground.

Ethan and Tyler made prolonged and awkward eye contact before Tyler finally spoke.

"Uh...hi," Tyler said giving Ethan a small pained smile as he too slumped forwards, dropping the other unconscious man in his arms and leaving Ethan to scramble to try and catch him.

* * *

 

Tyler was the first to wake up.

Amy and Kathryn had helped Ethan carry the two unconscious men to opposite ends of his couch, somehow without either of the guys stirring. The two of them had been lying there for about five minutes or so while Kathryn and Amy were about to call the hospital, when Tyler finally groaned in discomfort and sat up. 

The group rushed over to his side to check on him, with Kathryn holding a glass of water that she proceeded to give to Tyler.

"Thanks," he muttered before draining the glass of its contents and handing it back.

Though he seemed dazed and exhausted, Tyler looked better than he had when he'd arrived at the door a few minutes ago. His skin was slowly regaining colour, and his breathing had slowed considerably. The black lines were still there, though they had begun to fade even more.

The group sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt like the millionth time that night. All of them wanted to talk about what had happened, but none of them wanted to be the one to bring up the subject. There was no smooth or socially acceptable way to bring up a topic like this, and the transition into such a conversation was an awkward one to make.

Kathryn cleared her throat, getting the group's attention before speaking.

"So, are we gonna talk about this, or not?"

"I guess you guys deserve an explanation," Tyler said. "But I don't think I'll be able to give you a very good one."

"Try," Amy insisted.

Tyler sighed before continuing. "I don't remember too much. A lot of it is just one big blur, but I'll tell you the parts I do remember.

After I got knocked out, I woke up to Mark calling my name and gently shaking me, saying something about needing to move. Obviously, I was super confused, so I tried to ask him what was going on, but he wouldn't give me a straight answer. Something about demons. I got a bit light headed as he was talking, more so than I already was, so I don't remember too much about our conversation. I don't even remember where we were. All I remember is him asking me to help him, and agreeing to do so. Then I felt a prick on my neck, and everything went black again."

As he finished the last sentence, Tyler moved his shirt slightly and positioned his neck in such a way that it allowed the whole group to see it. Not only did they see the faint remains of black lines on it, but a black mark in the shape of an X as well. Like the other lines it had started to fade, but it still stuck out immensely. One could almost assume it was a tattoo, but Ethan knew better. He'd seen an almost identical symbol on Mark's neck in the park.

"I don't know how long this has been here. I only just saw it in the reflection of a window a little while ago, but it's probably been there for longer. It's also in the same place where I felt something prick my neck, which is weird, so I'm assuming that's where it came from.

After I passed out for the second time, I woke up in a dark room with my hands tied behind my back. I don't think there was anything else in the room, but it was too dark to be entirely sure. I couldn't exactly move to go check either, because whatever was binding my hands together was also attached to the wall.

I was waiting for a little while before a door in front of me opened, and Mark walked in. At least, I thought it was Mark at first. He was glowing with this weird broken 3D effect, and he looked like he was wearing a shit ton of eyeliner. His voice was also off too. It had this weird echo to it, and was deeper than normal. It seemed like him but... darker.

He introduced himself as Darkiplier. I though he was joking at first, but he kept up what I had assumed was a charade. I realized after a few moments that he was dead serious.

Again, I don't remember much about the rest of our conversation. It's all pretty hazy. All I remember is another guy walking through the door, then a lot of pain, then blackness again.

The next time I woke up was outside in an alleyway. "Darkiplier"," Tyler formed air quotes as he said the name. "Told me to keep quiet and follow him. It didn't look like he was armed, so I started to run in the opposite direction. Until I hear the click of a gun's safety turning off. So I was either forced to comply or get shot.

He led me down a couple of backstreets before he stopped and drew a weird symbol on the ground. His little sidewalk drawing started to glow, and the next thing I knew we were both standing at the front door.

And that's all I remember."

The group took a moment to process Tyler's explanation, his version of events even stranger than theirs'. Unfortunately, nothing still made any sense, leaving them with even more questions than before Tyler had woken up.

"Sorry I can't tell you anymore. I really don't remember much. I don't suppose you guys have any answers either?"

Every conscious member of the group shook their head. Ethan knew that they were all still as baffled as he was.

"What now?" Ethan asked.

"I don't know," Amy replied for the second time that night.

"We should wait for Mark to wake up before we do anything else," Tyler decided. "I have a feeling that he'll have some answers for us."

As if on cue, Mark groaned and mumbled something incoherent as he sat up, finally awake. Chica jumped up to try and lick his face, making him smile and distracting him temporarily. Then he noticed the four heads that had turned to stare at him.

"Hi," he said meekly. 

The group looked at him suspiciously. There was no paranormal glow about him, but they were still unsure if they were talking to Mark or Dark.

"Don't worry, it's me this time. Real Mark."

Ethan let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, relived that his friend was okay. He _really_ hadn't wanted to deal with Dark right now either.

Kathryn rushed to get him a glass of water, but when she brought one back Mark shook his head. 

"I'm fine, but thank you."

The group tried to insist a couple more time, each time Mark countering it with polite refusal, so Kathryn eventually reluctantly set the glass down on the table. Everyone else looked at Mark expectantly, awaiting his version of events.

"I guess you all want an explanation," he said, a twinge of what seemed like shame hidden in the tone of his voice.

The group all nodded grimly, waiting for what they hoped would be answers. Ethan knew they all wanted an explanation, but he also knew they were just as scared as he was to hear it.

"Alright. You guys deserve to hear this by now anyways.

God, where do I even start." He let out a nervous laugh, trying to stall for time. He seemed reluctant to talk about whatever it was that had happened, but Ethan wasn't entirely sure why.

"About 5 years ago, I made a deal. A really, really stupid deal.

One night, this strange entity appeared in my bedroom and claimed to be my guardian angel. He said that he could help me, that we could "change the world" and all that. And I believed him. We made a deal, and formed a partnership. He gave me a whole bunch of ideas, acted as someone I could confide in. He even allowed me to use his power as long as we shared my body.

As you could probably guess from what happened tonight, what he really wanted was to use me. For what, I never truly figured out, but I know it involved taking over my body."

He paused for a moment, like he was reluctant to share what he was about to say next. 

"I almost killed someone. He took over my body one night, and I nearly killed a guy against my will in an alleyway. He said he was "testing out my body," or some bullshit like that. He wanted to use me to murder somebody. I still don't know what happened to that poor guy, and I'm almost too scared to find out.

I put two and two together and tried to call of the deal, but it didn't go too well. He did not agree with my decision in the slightest, trapping me in this paranormal contract.

After I figured out his true intentions, he vanished for a few months. He was gone so long I was able to convince myself he was never there in the first place, which was another stupid mistake on my part.

He eventually came back one weekend while Bob and Wade were visiting and entered my body, so that he now permanently lives in the back of my brain. I can't get him out, so he kind of just sits there, taking control every once in a while.

I wasn't sure what he was planning, or when he was coming back. But I guess we know the answer to one of those questions now, don't we? 

I also now know that The Author is helping him for some reason, and that he wants you guys for something too. Probably others as well. He needs pawns for whatever chess game he's trying to play, and apparently, we're all perfect ones. That's why he and The Author took Tyler. They probably did something to him that's similar to what they did to me, as much as I hate to admit it."

Tyler instinctively moved his hand up to the mark on his neck, probably wondering if he too would get possessed.

"Jesus, Mark...," Amy said, at a loss for any words other than those two.

"I'm sorry," Mark said before anyone else could say anything. "I'm sorry I roped you all into this. This is all my fault, and now you're all probably going to suffer because of it. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." His voice cracked on the last apology as his eyes welled up with tears.

Everyone in the group moved closer to hug the broken man, even Chica, who tried to jump up and lick the tears that had begun to fall from his eyes. His silent crying quickly turned into shaky sobs as the group surrounded him, and he allowed himself to visibly cry over the events that had happened. Everyone trying to comfort and reassure him seemed to only make him cry harder.

Ethan felt absolutely awful. Not because his life could be in potential danger, but because he knew Mark blamed himself for all of this. Clearly, this situation had spiraled way beyond Mark's control, and a lot of this stuff he couldn't possibly prevent, but he knew Mark still blamed himself for all of it. The guilt was probably eating him alive. There wasn't anything that they could say to change his mind either. No words of comfort seemed to reassure him or change his mind, because his mind appeared to be made up. He'd found who he believed was the culprit, and he wasn't going to let that person go unpunished, even if the evidence was in the defendant’s favour. 

But there was something else that Ethan realized as he hugged his sorrowful friend. Something wasn't right.

Back at the park, Dark had said to Amy that they wouldn't speak to Mark "for quite a long time." Was two hours really "quite a long time?" Was a mere couple of hours really that long to Dark?

He had a feeling that Dark meant a lot longer than two hours, but this left him with a question he didn't want to even consider.

If they supposedly wouldn't be able to speak to Mark for "quite a long time," then was the man that he was hugging really Mark?


	9. Chapter Seven

The next morning came far too soon.

The light of the dawn that crept through the windows in Ethan's apartment was what woke Amy up the next day. She'd somehow chosen to sit in a spot that was at just the wrong angle from the window, meaning that the blinding sunlight hit her straight in the face far too early in the day. She tried squinting her eyes and turning away from the window, but the damage was already done. She was, much to her dismay, awake, thanks to the chipper rays of sun.

Falling asleep in a sitting position on the floor while slightly leaning against a couch probably wasn't a good idea either, but Amy would rather blame the sun for her early wake up than her own poor planning. Even if her own poor planning had resulted in a stiff back and a sharp pain in the right side of her neck.

She didn't actually remember falling asleep last night, but wasn't exactly surprised that it had happened accidentally. The group had stayed in the living room together for hours, just talking, before they must've all nodded off unintentionally.  Amy had no idea what time they'd stayed up to, but it must have been fairly late if all five of them, and Chica, had managed to fall asleep consecutively. 

It was funny really. None of them had intended to sleep at Ethan's place, but at the same time they all had. It had been clear nobody had wanted to leave anybody alone, especially after hearing Mark and Tyler's stories, so nobody wanted to be the one to suggest that they part ways for the night. The conversation had danced around the subject of what would happen tomorrow or how late it was getting, everybody purposefully steering it in any other direction to avoid those topics. Instead it was filled with light hearted chatter and immature jokes to distract them from what was to come, like they were all trying to pretend it was just a normal night of hanging out together. Like they'd meant to all end up by the couch talking about stupid stuff, like they meant to fall asleep there. Like their departure was a non-existent event, one that didn't have to happen.

And so, it didn't.

A quick scan of the room told Amy that everyone else was still asleep. Even Chica, who's head was resting on Amy's lap, was still snoring softly, looking content with life. The other half of the dog happened to be resting on Kathryn, who was sleeping at the base of the couch next to Amy. The animal's legs were sprawled across the human's lap, like a furry seatbelt, gently strapping her to the furniture.

Mark and Tyler were both still on the couch, the two of them lying down in what looked to be uncomfortable positions. Their spread-out limbs were taking up every square inch of the surface, making Amy wonder how one of them had managed to not fall off during the night. It also made her wonder how either would be able to get up without kicking the other in the face, though she had a feeling the answer to that was they wouldn't be able to.

But Ethan was the one that made Amy nearly burst out laughing. It looked like he'd tried to fall asleep on the chair next to her, key word being tried. He'd somehow managed to fall halfway off of it, his upper body resting on the ground while his feet remained somewhat on the chair. His armed were outstretched, as if he was trying to hug the ground, and his blue hair was a bright and messy halo around his head. The fact that he was lying face down and not on his back made it even more hilarious, the sight of his face pressed up against the floor highly amusing.

Amy knew she should probably wake him up to lessen the pain of his soon to be stiff back and neck, but at the same time, Ethan deserved to rest. They all did, considering what happened last night. Then again, Ethan probably wouldn't get a good rest if his body was contorted in such an odd position.

It turned out that there wasn't any need to wake him after all, because once Amy started to move to get up Ethan began to stir. He mumbled something that sounded like either a quiet cry of pain or a melange of curse words (probably both), before rubbing his eyes and slowly crawling away from the chair, dragging his feet with him. It wasn't until his body was entirely on the ground that he noticed Amy watching him while trying to hold back laughter.

"Don't mock me," he grumbled sarcastically as he sat up, a sleepy grin on his face.

"What? Me? I would never!" Amy replied, matching Ethan's sarcastic tone.

Ethan stretched and yawned, halting the conversation for a moment before saying, "Should we wake the others up?"

Given that the clock read 7:03, and that they'd stayed up well into the early hours of the morning, Amy decided that probably wasn't the best idea.

"Let's let them sleep for a while. Last night was... something."

Ethan nodded and made his way towards the kitchen, Amy standing up to follow him. Since they didn't really have anything better to do at the moment, they stood at the kitchen counter and chatted for a while. Quietly of course, or at least as quiet as they could manage, not wanting to wake the others up. They tried eating breakfast to pass the time until everyone else woke up, but several bowls of cereal are only enough for a few minutes of distraction. So a lot of that morning was spent filling the silence with an assortment of random conversations.

At first, they stuck with simple topics and stupid jokes, ones that they couldn't help but laugh at. But then, much to Amy's dismay, the conversation took a bit of a darker turn, going in a direction she wished it hadn't.

Ethan was the one who first steered it in that direction, starting off with a vague question. "Amy, can I ask you something kind of heavy?"

Amy, confused, replied with a hesitant "Sure."

"Do you think Mark is actually back?"

The question didn't sit right with Amy, and she already didn't like where this conversation was headed. But she had a sense of bizarre curiosity that prompted her to ask "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if Darkiplier is still here? What if he never really left?"

Amy looked at Ethan with an expression of cautious confusion. "Why would you think that?"

"Remember what Dark said in the park last night? How we wouldn't see Mark for "quite a long time"? He was gone for only about two hours, Amy. Is two hours really that long?"

Amy was about to protest, until she remembered the conversation with Dark that Ethan had mentioned. She hadn't even thought about it up until now, and she wished she still didn't have to. Because Ethan was right. Dark really had said they wouldn't see Mark for quite a long time. And yet Mark came back after only two hours, which by no means was a long time. Had he been implying something different when he said that (which seemed highly unlikely), or was Mark really still gone? 

"Maybe he was just messing with us? Trying to catch us off guard when Mark returned early?"

"I don't think so. He seemed dead serious, and nothing else he said was a joke. I don't think he was messing around in that conversation."

"Then what about the appearance change every time Dark takes over? The 3D effect and the dark rings around his eyes? Not to mention his voice."

"We don't know what he's capable of," Ethan countered. "He has all kinds of weird abilities, most of which we probably haven't even seen yet. It might be super easy for him to alter his appearance and make himself look like Mark. He might have just appeared with the weird demon shit by choice because, at the time, he didn't need to disguise himself."

He had a point. For all they knew Dark could make himself look like anyone he wanted to. It could be a simple ordeal for him to disguise himself as Mark and fool them all. Maybe Ethan was right. Maybe that was his plan.

But then something else dawned upon Amy. Something that she didn't think Ethan had considered.

"But what if Dark wants us to think it isn't Mark, when it really is? To try and get us to be wary of Mark, or turn against him? What if he wants us to lose all trust in Mark by leaving us constantly sceptical of who's in control?"

Ethan looked like he was about to argue, but stopped as he paused to think for a moment. What Amy had said must have hit him hard, because for the first time during their discussion he was at a loss for words. 

Amy's argument had been a complete shot in the dark, and she didn't have anything to prove it. But that didn't rule it out as a possible scenario, because she didn't anything to disprove it either. She could tell that Ethan knew this, that he too was aware of the lack of evidence. But she also knew that he had a sneaking suspicion that somehow, Amy's theory might just be true.

Kathryn walked over to the table before the two could continue their discussion, both of them falling silent at the arrival of another addition to the conversation. They hadn't even heard her get up, which was worrying. Hopefully she hadn't heard their little debate.

Kathryn eyed the two of them suspiciously before saying "What's up with you two?"

"Nothing," Ethan replied a little too quickly, though if Kathryn noticed this she didn't say anything.

"Just talking about last night," Amy half-lied.

Kathryn's expression fell. "Oh."

An awkward gap in the conversation formed, the three of them not sure how to continue it.

"Well, I'm gonna go make a coffee run. You two want anything?" Kathryn said, the tone of her voice drastically different than it was a few moments ago.

Amy and Ethan both told her what they would like, and then Kathryn was out the door, leaving them alone in the kitchen again. Neither wished to continue the previous conversation.

Thankfully, they didn't need to, because after a few minutes without talking Tyler and Mark finally woke up. Or more accurately, Mark woke Tyler up by kicking him in the face.

All they heard was a loud yawn from Mark, an exclamation of pain from Tyler, and then a thud as they both crashed to the floor. Amy and Ethan rushed to the other room to find the two men now on the ground, Tyler clutching his jaw and Mark apologizing profusely. Chica was lying a safe distance away from the disaster, observing Mark and Tyler bicker back and forth.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"How did you even manage to do that?! My face was on the other side of the couch!"

"It's not a super big couch!"

"Yeah, but you're not exactly a super tall person!"

Their argument didn't appear to be stopping anytime soon, especially since Tyler had just made a short joke, so Amy decided to interrupt them before Mark could retaliate.

"Boys, stop fighting, or we'll send you to your rooms!" Amy interjected, a grin on her face.

Tyler and Mark stopped fighting and finally noticed Ethan and Amy standing from afar and watching their quarrel. 

"Don't think we won't do it!" Ethan said, continuing Amy's joke. "I'll take away your Chica petting privileges!"

Mark, who dropped the argument immediately, protectively rushed over to Chica and hugged her. Chica just looked at the man with even more confusion.

"NO!" Mark cried. "I need my puppo pets! You don't even have the authority to take them away anyways!"

"Yes, I do! Watch me!"

Ethan called Chica over to him and started to run out of the room with the dog in tow. Mark had let go of her a couple of seconds ago, which allowed her to chase after Ethan. He stood up in a hurry to try and catch the two of them, their laughter heard clearly even from the other room.

This lasted a few more minutes before Kathryn returned, carrying several cups of coffee in her hand. She grumbled about how Mark and Tyler should've woken up sooner, and that she'd have to make a second coffee trip, but to her relief, neither wanted any.

Everyone spent most of the remaining hours of the morning in the kitchen, talking like they had the night before. Ethan and Mark had both made quick update videos about how regular videos would be delayed for a while due to some recent events, but other than that, the morning was spent doing nothing of importance. Mark took Chica for a walk, those who hadn't had breakfast ate. Nothing complicated, because they all wanted to squeeze as much joy as they could out of these few hours before they were forced to confront a certain problem.

Unfortunately, the morning flew by quickly, and before they knew it, it was 12:00. The cheerful conversations ground to a halt when everyone realized what time it was, all of them realizing that they had put things off long enough.

"I think it's time we talk about what we're going to do about Dark," Amy said, starting yet another grim conversation. "Anyone have any ideas?"

Almost everyone solemnly shook their heads, except for Kathryn, who immediately voiced what would be the group's only solution.

"I did some research last night," she said. "Before I fell asleep. There's supposedly a psychic or something nearby. Just a couple blocks away, actually. They apparently help with "warding off demons and bad sprits." I think they also do fortune telling too, but I didn't look at that part of their website too much, since we don't really need that.

I don't know if that kind of superstitious witchy stuff will actually work, but it's worth a shot. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I tried looking up stuff like this on the internet before," Mark said. "But none of it was useful. Every site I visited said I need to know what type of creature I'm dealing with, and I honestly have no clue. Won't a psychic just give us the same answer?"

"Maybe they will, maybe they won't," Kathryn replied. "We won't know unless we go there."

Nobody else protested, since Kathryn's solution looked like their only option. No one else had any ideas to counter hers anyways, so it was either the psychic or nothing. And doing nothing wasn't helpful. 

"Alright, I guess that settles it. Let's go visit a psychic in a sketchy back alley." Kathryn said, making her way towards the door. The rest of the group, including Chica, followed her out.

The prospect of visiting a random person who was claiming to be a psychic normally would've worried Amy, but not this time. This time, she was just glad that they had a solution to try at all. They could've easily been stuck at Ethan's apartment, waiting for Dark or The Author to show up again, which would have made thing so much worse. And if this person really was psychic, that would be pretty damn cool.

Besides, it's not like anything super bad could happen. If they got weird vibes or it didn't work, they could just leave. Like Kathryn had said, what's the worst that could happen?


	10. Chapter Eight

"Why do I get the feeling that we're gonna get mugged as soon as we get there?" Ethan said as the group walked down the sidewalk, heading towards their destination.

"Because we're probably going to be mugged," Mark replied, the theme of his answer not at all matching the joking smile on his face.

"There's five of us. I think we could take them down," Kathryn stated, partaking in the ridiculous discussion.

"Yeah, but what if they use their witchy powers on us and turn us into toads!? We can't fight crime if we're toads!" Ethan joked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Amy smiled at the stupid conversation they were having. Ethan and Mark were right, there was a chance this could go bad, but the most likely scenario would be that the psychic would be crazy and weird them out to the point of egress. And there was no way they'd be turned into toads. 

"Shouldn't we be hoping that this person will actually help us, not debating over how exactly they're going to rob us?" She chimed in.

"But debating over how they're going to rob us is more fun!" Mark objected, the grin never leaving his face.

Amy laughed. "How?!"

"Because if you had to be robbed, wouldn't you want to be able to say that you were robbed by a psychic who turned you into a toad? That would make for such a great story at parties," Kathryn justified.

"Toads can't talk," Amy said in return. 

"True..." 

"But what if they only temporarily turned us into toads!" Ethan argued, refusing to drop the subject. "Like, if after half an hour, we turned back into humans."

"Fair point, but what about our clothes? Would we grow too small to fit in them, and then return to normal naked?" Amy replied.

"Maybe they'd fuse with our skin, and then when we go back to being humans they un-fuse and go back to being normal clothes?" Mark suggested.

"Sorry, but I think that's pushing it."

"Fiiiinne, you win." Mark said, drawing out the first word.

Silence fell upon the group, but for the first time in a long time it wasn't heavy or awkward. It was just an absence of noise, nothing more nothing less. Nothing tense or threatening like it had been in the past. Just a calm gap in the conversation, almost like a breath, before more talking would definitely ensue. 

However, the brief silence gave Amy time to realize how quiet one member of the group had been throughout their whole journey. Tyler had yet to say anything on their walk, not participating in any of the conversations they'd had.

That fact in itself was troubling, but a quick glance at the man took it up another level. He didn't look well in the slightest. Of course, none of them were feeling the greatest right now, but Tyler looked far worse than any of them currently felt.

His skin had lost a lot of colour, not to the point it had been at last night, but it was rapidly approaching that shade. His hands were trembling slightly, twitching involuntarily every couple of seconds or so, and he seemed to be swaying with each step he took, like he'd fall over any second. Amy knew that they could normally deduce that this was due to low blood sugar, but Tyler had eaten breakfast and lunch before they left. He literally ate just half an hour ago, so there was no way that was the cause of this. And last time she checked, low blood sugar doesn't cause erratic twitchy movements like the ones Tyler's hands were making. Tyler's current condition was most definitely due to something else, and she had a few ideas about what that something else could be.

Mark also seemed to notice how unwell Tyler looked, because right after Amy spotted it he spoke up.

"You okay, Tyler?"

"I'm fine," he replied gruffly.

"Dude, your hands are literally twitching. You're not fine," Ethan said.

"Guys, trust me, I'm okay."

"I can take you back to my place so you can rest or something," Ethan offered.

"No, seriously, I'm fine. I mean, I'm not fine, but taking me back to your place won't fix this. Whatever's happening to me right now has to do with whatever happened to me last night, I'm sure of it. I've got that same weird feeling I got after it happened yesterday. Taking me to the voodoo person to fix this is a better option." 

A flash of guilt flickered in Mark's eyes for a moment as Tyler explained his reasoning. He clearly still felt responsible for whatever Dark and The Author did last night, even though he had no control over anything at the time. Amy hated to see him blame himself for all of this, especially because she knew that he would never _stop_ blaming himself. Nothing she said would convince him that he wasn't the bad guy, so this endless cycle of guilt wasn't going to end for him anytime soon, which saddened her.

Another silence settled upon the group, this one much heavier and tense than the last one. This kind of quiet was becoming increasingly familiar, which wasn't a good thing. Amy already missed the brief quiet from moments ago, the one that wasn't overbearing. The good kind of silence.

Amy didn't want all silence to be a bad thing anymore. She wanted silence to mean absolutely nothing, the way it used to. Now it meant far too much.

Kathryn suddenly stopped in her tracks, looking down at the phone Tyler had lent her for navigational purposes, and then down an alleyway to their right.

"We're here," she said. "The place is at the end of this alley."

Amy craned her neck to look down the alley in question, and found that she couldn't see the entirety of the building from where she was standing. All she could see was a worn-down sign jutting out that read "McCloud's" in aging and decrepit letters, followed by four other words that were completely illegible.

"What's this place called?" She asked, curious about its full name.

"McCloud's Office of Spiritual Affairs," Kathryn read from her phone. "They could use some work on the name. And the sign, from the looks of it." 

Then, without a word, the group started down the alleyway towards the "Office of Spiritual Affairs." The buildings on either side of them were extremely close together, making it a tight fit for all six of them and forcing them to move in a single file line. The sheer height of the towering buildings and lack of elbow room gave Amy a very strong sense of claustrophobia that left a tight feeling in her chest. All she could think about while walking down the alley was how hard it would be to run away, how few hiding places there were. If things went south, this narrow and empty space left them with very few quick and easy escape routes. She knew she was probably just being paranoid, and that they probably wouldn't need an escape route, but Amy still couldn't get rid of that panicked feeling.

Thankfully, they finally reached the end of the two tall buildings, ending the alley and opening up to a small patch of pavement behind the structures. It was only a few square metres big, but it was still bigger than the typical amount of space found between buildings. 

Amy was quite confused as to why this space existed, considering they were surrounded by structures on every side, which meant the only way to get to it was by squeezing through one of the narrow pathways between the other buildings. There wasn't even much back here. Just asphalt, a few pieces of trash here and there, and the psychic's place. Could the psychic's office really be the only reason for this small paved area's existence?

Amy decided not to question it further. This place's location wasn't important.

Now that they were actually back there, Amy could get a proper look at the place they would soon enter. She wasn't entirely surprised when it turned out to be very... odd looking. 

The building wasn't very big, and this fact was only made more obvious by the enormous surrounding structures, which dwarfed the smaller establishment. It was also comically narrow in comparison with its neighbours, its width no more than a sixth of the other buildings.

This place, for whatever reason, was also designed to look like a tiny house. Its triangular roof and quaint siding made it look almost adorable, although the colour choice of said siding was a bit peculiar. The top half was a bright shade of orange, while the bottom was a pale pink. Patches of several others colours appeared in sporadic blots on the two background colours, as if someone had repeatedly tried to paint it another shade before deciding to switch to a different colour after a minute or two. Another odd feature was that the building wasn't even just siding. There was a random patch of brick on the mini house's right side, like whoever had built the place was as indecisive as whoever had tried to paint it. 

Colourful arrangements of plants decorated the exterior of the building, hanging from and placed upon every possible space. Even though the two windows on either side of the centered door weren't very big, somebody had managed to fit an entire garden's worth of plants in the troughs below them. There were even more planted in the gutters, hanging from the lip of the roof, and planted in the small patches of dirt on either side of the stone steps that lead to the front door. Amy was sure there was a whole lot more inside the house as well.

"Who in their right mind built this?" Mark asked, puzzled by the building's odd aesthetic.

"No clue," Kathryn said in response. "It's an interesting design choice for sure."

The group took another moment to stare at the strange building, hesitant to go inside, until Ethan gave them a reason to.

"Uh, we should probably head inside. The thing on Tyler's neck is back."

Everyone turned to face Tyler, whose eyes had widened in surprise and whose hand had instinctively reached to touch a point on his neck. Tyler slowly shifted his arm so the rest of the group could see, revealing his skin as well as something Amy hoped would never reappear. There, in the exact same place as before, was the black mark. Just like last night, the X stained his paling skin, only it was much darker and a lot more obvious this time. Amy didn't think that was a good thing.

"Let's go before this gets worse," Tyler said, dropping his arm back down to his side.

The group hurried to the front door with a nervous Chica in tow. The dog seemed reluctant to go inside the building, scared of it even. Mark had to pick her up and carry her up the steps because she refused to move any further. Amy knew that was probably also a bad sign, but pushed aside her worries for the moment. They had to fix this.

Kathryn rang the doorbell twice before the door finally opened with a groan. With the sound it made, Amy could've sworn it hadn't been opened in ages, though that seemed highly unlikely.

Greeting them was a tall man in an olive-green suit with impeccable posture. His shoes caught Amy's eye immediately, noticing that they were shined and in perfect condition. He looked to be in his early twenties, though the grey streaks in his perfectly combed hair would say otherwise. Amy could also see a faint scar on the left side of his very prominent jawline, small and hardly visible, but still there. His eyes sat behind a pair of vibrant orange glasses as he scanned the six of them silently, their mismatched colours of green and brown boring into Amy's soul. There was this iciness to his stare that was uncomfortable to look at. It made it feel like he already knew what each and every one of them were thinking, their entire life stories, without any of them saying anything.

The peculiar looking man looked just as odd as his building did, which was slightly off-putting.

But looks can be deceiving. 

"You might want to hurry with that one," he said, pointing to Tyler. His voice had a faint and untraceable accent to it. "He's getting too far along the process."

Amy didn't have time to question what the man meant by "process," because he opened the door all the way and walked back inside the tiny house, motioning for them to follow, before she could collect her thoughts.

The inside of the house was even stranger than the outside. Given that the building looked tiny from the exterior, Amy assumed the same would apply to the interior. Yet the inside had quite the substantial amount of room, more than what should have been possible from the lack of space they saw outside. The walls seemed to extend beyond the house, which made no physical sense. Amy hoped it was just an optical illusion.

Like the outside, the inside of the building was brimming with plants. Windowsills and tabletops were a rainbow of different colours thanks to the various flowers and bushes, no two plants looking exactly the same. There was even a small tree in the far-right corner.

To their right was what Amy assumed was a sitting room, with several multi-coloured chairs and couches all circled around a wooden coffee table. Abstract paintings hung from different spots on the walls, making the light red paint look even brighter.

To their left was a bigger wooden table, obviously covered in plants, which was surrounded by tall dark shelves that were placed against the walls. The contents of those shelves seemed to fall under no category or order whatsoever, books and assorted bottles placed on them at random. There were several types of rocks and crystals resting on them as well, alongside some trinkets that looked like they belonged in a museum somewhere.

All that was directly in front of them was a red carpet that lead to a curtain, which was hanging from the ceiling in a space where a door would typically be. Normally Amy wouldn't have paid any attention to it. It was just a curtain after all. Except this particular curtain was cerulean blue and decorated with Roman numerals. The collection of random numerals was diverse in colour, each and every one a different shade or a different colour all together than the one next to it, no two of them the same. Amy had never seen anything like it.

She didn't know which was stranger, the fact that someone owned a curtain like this or the fact that someone had _made_ a curtain like this.

The odd man that had greeted them had moved towards the shelves on the left, rifling through the bottles and trinkets, obviously looking for something. He softly hummed to himself as he searched, preoccupied with his task and temporarily ignoring the group.

"So, I take it you're McCloud?" Mark said, trying to get the man's attention.

"Yes, that would be me. But just Seth will do."

Seth found whatever it was that he was looking for and let out a cry of triumph, turning around with a bottle in his hand. It was then he realized the group was still standing by the door and watching awkwardly.

"Why are you standing there? Go sit down!" He exclaimed before marching towards the numeral curtain and disappearing behind it.

The group, left with no other option, did as he said and took a seat on the colourful couches. The only expression done in the minutes that Seth was gone was the exchanging of nervous glances amongst the five of them, and a barely audible whimper from Chica. Amy had come into this feeling optimistic, Kathryn's idea seeming like a good option when she first pitched it, but now she wasn't quite as enthused. This place had a really weird vibe to it, and Seth seemed slightly sketchy. She knew they should probably leave soon, but she wanted to hear what Seth had to say before they left. Who knows, maybe they misjudged him. Maybe.

A ruckus was heard from behind the curtain before Seth finally reappeared, carrying several more bottles as well as a couple of small plants in his arms. He hurried over to the group and dropped his things onto the coffee table, immediately fidgeting with them as soon as his hands were free again.

"While we wait for this here to be finished," he said, not taking his eyes away from his project. "Why don't you fill me in on what happened."

Another round of nervous glances was exchanged amongst the five visitors. 

"Don't you want to know our names first?" Mark said, giving Seth a confused glance.

"I already know who you are, Mark."

Mark looked surprised for a moment, but his expression quickly turned to one of relief a second later, like he realized something.

"Oh, you know my YouTube channel?"

"No," Seth replied nonchalantly. 

Mark's face went back to displaying an expression of surprise, Seth's words taking a moment to sink in. He had to be joking right? They'd never seen this man before, so how else would he know Mark's name other then through YouTube?

"Don't worry, I know the rest of you too. Tyler, Amy, Kathryn, Ethan, it's a pleasure to meet you. Oh, and Chica too, of course."

Amy's desire to leave only grew stronger the longer Seth talked. She was quickly losing what little trust she had in him, feeling like he'd pull out a knife and kill them at any second. They needed to get out of here, and fast.

"I'm assuming that you've come in contact with The Author, judging by that mark on Tyler's neck," Seth said before Amy could put her paranoia to words. "Am I correct?"

His words hit Amy like a ton of bricks, The Author's name coming out of nowhere and catching her off guard. She hadn't been expecting that.

The group could only nod in response, too stunned to actually contribute to the conversation. This guy knew who The Author was? How? Had he met him before? When? Where? The large amount of questions they were left with gave Amy the feeling that maybe this guy wasn't a hoax after all.

"So, the bastard's up to something again," Seth continued. "Figures. Someone must be helping him this time. There's no way he could've done this much damage on his own, not in the condition we left him in. Do you have any idea who that might be?"

Mark spoke up, the first one of them to talk after Seth's knowledge had shocked them. "Yeah, actually, we do. Do you know Dark?"

Seth stopped his fiddling to look up at Mark, his expression unreadable. "Yes, I do. Very well, unfortunately. So, you can give up the act, because I know it's you."

The words made no sense to Amy at first, the realization taking a moment to hit her. The meaning behind Seth's words was lost on her, until she remembered who the subject of their conversation was.

Dark.

It was at this moment that Amy realized that Ethan had been right.

A dark chuckle echoed throughout the room, bouncing around the walls and making it sound like the house itself was cackling. But Amy knew the source of it was the man across from her, the one she had thought was Mark.

In a flash Dark's disguise disappeared, his confused expression turning to one of malice, his skin paling as dark rings formed around his eyes and the familiar 3D effect returned. He grinned with satisfaction at the six of them, his eyes filled with a subdued type of insanity. It was enough to make Amy's skin crawl, the way he looked at them like that. Like they were all the prey in some sick hunting game.

The speed at which he went from "Mark" to Dark made Amy sick to her stomach. The person she thought was Mark had vanished before she could even fully comprehend the situation, somebody she cared about so much gone so fast. It was like watching the man she loved _die_ , everything that made him Mark melting away as he was replaced by something soulless. The warmth in his eyes, his bright smile, taken away so damn quickly. To think that Dark had the power to take Mark away like that was horrifying. But what was even more horrifying was the fact that Mark had already been gone for a long time, and they hadn't even noticed. Amy hadn't missed his laugh or his jokes because she thought they were still there, like they always were. Of course, she'd had her suspicions, but had still held onto hope that Dark was gone. She hadn't even fully understood that the words he spoke weren't Mark's, that those tears he cried weren't his. That it had all been fake. 

Maybe saying that it was like watching him die wasn't accurate after all.

Because Mark had been "dead" for a long while.

And Dark had been attempting to cover up the murder.

Everyone in the group, except for Seth and Dark, jackknifed to their feet at Dark's sudden appearance. Tyler tried to move quickly, but whatever was happening to him was getting worse. His jolt of movement made him groan and sit back down, clutching his head in his hands. Dark glanced at the pained man with a wicked smile, Tyler's pain amusing him further. Chica stood up and growled at the man she'd thought was Mark, but a quick death stare from Dark was enough to make her go silent again.

"That's quite the sudden entrance," Seth mused, still working with the things on the table. He seemed completely unfazed by the demonic figure next to him, like Dark wasn't a threat at all.

"Well, what were you expecting?" Dark replied, a high-pitched ringing noise accompanying his words.

"I expected you to keep bluffing for at least a couple more minutes. I didn't think you'd give up so easily."

"You already knew it was me. There wasn't any point in trying to hide."

"Fair point," Seth said as he mixed the contents of two bottles together. "But none of the others knew it was you."

Dark's malicious eyes scanned the terrified group, taking in each and every one of their expressions as he contemplated what Seth said.

"That's right," he said. "But it was about time to show my face again anyways. The next part of the plan is just around the corner, so it was bound to happen sooner or later. 

Anyways, onto more interesting topics. You're calling yourself Seth nowadays? Really?"

"You're still going by Dark," Seth responded. "You're in no position to judge."

Amy remained absolutely baffled by their conversation, their words only adding to her terror. It was clear that these two knew each other, but from where Amy couldn't begin to guess. She also had no idea if these two were on good terms either, so this conversation could escalate even further than it already had, and Amy really didn't want that.

"I'm sorry, but what the absolute fuck is going on?!" Ethan exclaimed. His words put a stop to the conversation Seth and Dark had been having, reminding them that nobody else in the room knew what they were talking about.

"Apologies, I forgot that this all must be very new to you," Seth said, finally standing up and looking away from his work. "I'll be sure to explain it to all of you as soon as I'm done disposing of this asshole." He motioned to Dark.

The insult didn't seem to scathe Dark in the slightest. He stood up, smoothing out his clothes as he did so, and pulled something out of his pocket. A flick of his wrist caused a blade to shoot out of the handle that Dark was gripping. The metal it was made of was unfamiliar to Amy, the blade appearing to be several different colours all at once, like a rainbow trapped in a dagger. It was kind of ironic, because the blade's owner was anything but full of rainbows.

"Not this time," Dark said, admiring the blade in his hand. "This time, I have backup."

He glanced up from the weapon and looked at Tyler with a devilish grin. The man was still confined to sitting on the couch because of his condition, his head in his trembling hands.

"Isn't that right Tyler?"

At the sound of his name, Tyler's head snapped up from between his hands. He'd stopped shaking suddenly, and his skin was even paler than before. Other then that, nothing else had really changed had changed. Except for one very noticeable feature.

His eyes were pitch black.

Dark pulled out another knife from his pocket and tossed it to Tyler, who caught it without flinching. He repeated the same motion Dark had with his hand and extended the blade, admiring it for a few seconds before looking back up at Dark, as if awaiting instruction. The sadistic grin on Dark's face only grew more malicious as he watched Tyler do this, clearly proud of whatever had been done to the man. All Amy could do was feel worry gnaw away at her insides as she tried to compute what exactly had just happened to Tyler.

Again, Seth didn't seem bothered by anything that happened. He casually reached into an inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a knife identical to the ones Tyler and Dark were holding, as well as a small pistol.

"I thought you would've learned your lesson after what happened last time, but I guess I was wrong. You even went as far as involving mortals in your plan. _Mortals_ , Dark! Do you realize how much damage you could do to them?"

Amy didn't like the sound of the word damage, especially with both Tyler's and Mark's current states.

"I know," Dark replied, not a trace of sympathy in his words. "I just don't care."

Dark gave a nod to Tyler, who lunged towards Seth with the knife in his hand. Dark followed suit, rushing forwards to attack the taller man alongside Tyler. Seth seemed to have expected this, because he dodged both of their advances easily and positioned himself in a fighting stance. He tried to load the pistol with something that he had been fiddling with on the table, but Dark and Tyler rushed to stop him, forcing him to back away from the table in order to avoid being struck with one of their blades. Over and over and over again, Seth attempted to grab whatever was on the table, only to have to stop his attempts thanks to Tyler and Dark. The two of them relentlessly came after Seth time after time, each time missing their mark because their target was able to dodge, or because their strikes were parried by Seth's knife. While Dark and Tyler seemed _very_  intent on killing Seth, Seth appeared to be reluctant to strike a blow on either of them. The only movements made with his knife hand were ones that parried Dark and Tyler's attacks, and his gun had yet to be used at all.

Amy and the rest of the group had managed to back into a far corner of the room to avoid being caught in the crossfire. All they could do was watch in horror, or risk being struck by one of the others. Amy knew she should probably help Seth, but she still didn't trust him. Especially with those weapons in his hands. What if he shot or stabbed Tyler or Dark? What if he killed them? She had a feeling that if Dark died, Mark would die too, and that was the last things she wanted. But she didn't want to help Dark and freaky possessed Tyler either, because she already knew how bad their intentions were. It was lose-lose situation.

Amy's fears became a reality as she watched Seth finally attack Dark with the blade, slicing it across his arm and forming a long cut. It didn't look too bad at first, until the wound started smoking, like the blade burned Dark's skin. Burned _Mark's_ skin. She heard Dark hiss in pain, but wasn't surprised when he still tried to retaliate against Seth. He lunged again, swinging his blade in hopes of getting revenge. But he never made it. Seth sidestepped, moving out of the way of Dark's attack, and quickly ended up behind him. Amy felt time slow down as he took his dagger and plunged it into Dark's back, right near the shoulder blade. He then delivered a swift kick immediately after that and sent the wounded being forward. Dark let out another cry of pain, clearly even more angry now, but he seemed stunned for the moment. The blade appeared to have burned him somehow, which meant it was doing more damage than a regular knife would.

Tyler tired to avenge him by charging at Seth from behind, but Seth somehow saw it coming. He spun around to meet Tyler and stabbed him in the front, right near his stomach. The wound started to smoke, the same way Dark's wounds had, obviously causing immense pain. Tyler grimaced, but remained silent, which was even more disturbing than if he had cried out. Seth did the same to Tyler as he'd done to Dark and kicked him forcefully, sending him reeling backwards. This gave him the perfect opportunity to grab whatever it was he'd needed from the table and load it into his gun before either of them could recover enough to stop him.

Then he turned in quick succession and shot both of them, causing them to collapse to the ground. 

Unmoving.


	11. Chapter Nine

Ethan couldn't move.

It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to move, or that he wasn't willing to. He just physically could not get his body to move in any direction, no matter how hard he tried.

His muscles and joints were locked in place, causing him to stand there petrified, like a terrified statue. Shock and terror coursed through his veins, the cold harshness of the two feelings numbing his entire anatomy. His brain couldn't comprehend everything that had just happened, freezing up, and freezing his body along with it. It seemed his body and mind needed a moment to play catch up and assess the grim and shocking events that had just taken place, as well as the aftermath that lay a few feet away from him. Though they seemed to be taking their sweet time, because Ethan stood there with his mouth hanging open for quite awhile.

Seth took out whatever ammunition had been in his gun, then put the gun back in the pocket he'd retrieved it from and set the ammo on the large wooden table next to him. He pulled out a handkerchief and started to wipe the blood off of his dagger, staining the pure white fabric a sickening shade of red. Ethan knew that Tyler and Mark had had no control of their bodies during the fight, that there was something else in their place, but he also knew that it was still _their_ bodies. Though they weren't there mentally, physically they were still present. Which meant that the blood on Seth's dagger was still theirs'. 

The thought made Ethan want to punch Seth in the face (or do something far worse), but he decided against it. Seth hadn't really had any other options in that ordeal.

Once he decided the blade was clean enough, Seth shoved it back in the pocket it had rested in earlier and folded up the bloody handkerchief before placing it in a different pocket. Having taken care of his used weapons, he focused his attention back on the group, immediately noticing the expressions of horror on all of their faces.

"What?" He asked.

Nobody said anything in response.

Seth seemed to suddenly remember the unmoving bodies at his feet, glancing at them briefly before his face conveyed his sudden realization. 

"Ooooh, that. Don't worry, they're not dead. Just unconscious. The bullets weren't lethal, just tranquilizers. I had to detain them somehow, and I certainly didn't want to have to kill Mark and Tyler to do that, so this was the best option. I unfortunately did have to use my dagger, which I really didn't want to bring out in the first place, but the wounds from the blade aren't lethal either. I was very careful with where I struck, so they should recover just fine. If we can heal them in time, that is, though I believe that we will."

He began to pick up Mark from off the floor, holding him carefully as to avoid making the wound on his back worse, and headed towards the numeral curtain.

"I'm gonna need some help back here," Seth called over his shoulder. "There's a lot that I need to prep, and I've only got two hands. Well, two hands in this form anyways."

Ethan didn't even want to know what he meant by "this form."

Seth disappeared behind the curtain for the second time since they'd arrived with Mark in his arms. There were several noises heard from behind it, mostly the sounds of things falling over and Seth cursing at them. It normally would've been slightly funny, but now wasn't the time for jokes.

Nobody in the group moved to follow him, fearful of whatever was behind the curtain. Not only that, but they were scared of Seth himself. He seemed to be on their side, but after the events that had just taken place, none of them knew who they could trust anymore. After all, Dark had been pretending to be Mark that whole time. Seth could easily turn out to be crazy or evil and kill them all, and nobody would ever know what happened to them. They had no way of really knowing who was on whose side. All they had to rely on was Seth's actions from over the past few minutes, and hopeful trust.

Seth re-entered the room once more, noticing that his visitors were still frozen in place. 

"I'm serious," he said, his voice sounding almost sad. "If we don't do this right, both of them die."

That was enough to pull the group out of their state of shock. Obviously, none of them wanted Tyler or Mark to die, and if trusting Seth meant saving them, then so be it. Ethan and the others followed Seth to whatever was behind the curtain, hoping it wasn't anything bad.

Behind the curtain of doom was an area even bigger than the one they had stepped out of. Once again, the dimensions of the room shouldn't have been physically possible, stretching far beyond where the walls should have ended. But never the less, here it was. Right in front of them and entirely possible. 

On their left was a kitchen, complete with a fridge, microwave, and toaster, as well as several other appliances. Dirtied plates lay by the sink, waiting to be washed, and several sticky notes were stuck to the cupboards and fridge as reminders for things. The white colour of every thing in that particular section of the large room matched the tile floor beneath it, making it very pleasing to look at. Just beyond where the tile ended and the hardwood floor began was a dining room table, which surprisingly wasn't covered in plants. Instead there was a large sheet of cream coloured paper, with a strange symbol drawn in black ink covering most of its centre. Surrounding said symbol were even more, slightly smaller symbols, creating quite the interesting collection of shapes.

Aside from the weird drawings, this back room seemed almost normal, sticking out from the other weird parts of the building.

Until they saw the right side.

The right side was very far from normal. Ethan had seen many an odd choice in interior design, but this took the cake. The walls were covered in weapons of all kinds, some with blades, others with triggers and barrels, and even some that looked like they belonged on an alien spaceship. They made Ethan a little anxious, as a probing was the last thing any of them needed right now. Crystals, wind chimes and dream catchers hung from absolutely everywhere on the ceiling, making it very hard to see the white paint underneath all of the brightly coloured items. A tall metal bookshelf stood in the corner of the room, taking up a good portion of the wall in front of them and holding some scary and strange looking items. There were differing types of bones, feathers, syringes, bottles, fabrics, even more weapons, books, surgical tools, plants and objects Ethan couldn't give name to. He wasn't sure he really wanted to give name to them either. 

The right side of the floor wasn't hardwood or tile like the left side. It was made up of many different types of carpet, making the ground look like one big messy quilt. There was even a section that was made entirely out of scales. A single pole jutted out from the ground at a random point in the room, reaching halfway to the ceiling. Only one piece of furniture sat in this side of the room. A single lonely-looking couch that appeared very uncomfortable was placed up against the right wall, barren of cushions or padding of any kind. It was made entirely out of wood, making it really more of a bench than a couch.

Mark was lying with his stomach against the floor in the centre of the carpet quilt, resting on a section that looked suspiciously like paper, not unlike the kind lying on the table a few feet away. Blood from the cut on his arm was pooling onto the page, and the red stain on the back of his shirt was becoming larger and darker every second. 

Seth set Tyler down on his back on the wooden bench before hurrying over to the shelf, scanning its contents for something in particular.

"Could one of you go and fetch a bottle of ink and a quill from the kitchen cupboards?" He called to the group. "I left them in there after a little... incident two days ago."

Ethan silently made his way towards the cupboard to get what Seth had asked for. The man at the shelf called out for the rest of the group to help him as well, asking them to fetch various other things or perform a task of some sort, but Ethan didn't catch most of what he said. Something about paper.

Upon opening the cupboard, Ethan found yet another mess of strange objects. There were plates and cups, which is what Ethan had been expecting, as well as some plants (of course) and other things Ethan decided not to expect any further. After opening and closing many of the cupboards in search of the items Seth had requested, he finally found them in the cupboard closest to the dining table. It seemed like an ordinary calligraphy set, though Ethan had a feeling it would reveal to be strange in some aspect.

He hurried over to where the rest of the group was with the ink and quill in his hands. He hoped for all of their sakes Seth knew what he was doing.

"Just set that stuff down right there," Seth said to Ethan, pointing to a spot on the ground. "There should be just enough left in that bottle to finish the job."

Ethan did as he said and backed away from the man, sitting beside Chica and the rest of the conscious group and letting Seth do whatever it was he was doing.

While Ethan had been fetching the ink and quill, Seth and the group had moved Tyler onto a piece of paper to the right of Mark. Unlike Mark, the large piece of paper Tyler had been placed on wasn't worked into the carpet. There weren't any other paper sections, so someone had had to place the sheet on top of a fuzzy part of the rug instead. He was lying on his back, facing the ceiling and making the blood that was soaking his shirt visible. His wound must have been worse than Mark's, because the crimson red was overtaking and soaking his shirt much faster than on the other man.

"Sorry I only had one sheet of paper at the ready," Seth said. "I have it worked into the carpet in case of emergencies, but I only ever expected to have to help one person at a time. This is the first time I've had two, so I had to fetch another sheet for Tyler."

Seth made his way towards Tyler first, carrying several of the objects the group had grabbed in his hands. Alarms went of in Ethan's brain as he realized that one of those items was a knife, his brain beginning to panic before he could begin to try and deduce what it was for.

Seth took the knife and dipped the silver blade into one of the bottles he'd been holding, coating it in what looked like viscous water. It stuck to the metal, like honey, some of it slowly dripping off onto the carpet and stuck there. Ethan made a mental note to avoid the now wet spots on the floor.

Just as Ethan was about to ask what the knife was for, Seth rolled up Tyler's shirt and stuck the sticky blade into his open wound. Seeing the knife stab his friend made Ethan experience a sharp pain in his own stomach, knocking the wind out of him and making him feel as if the weapon was stabbing him as well. The group began to scream at Seth to stop (Chica joining in by barking), began to try and pull his hand away from Tyler and prevent him from potentially killing the already wounded man, but they were thwarted in their attempts to save Tyler after they were all pushed backwards with a wave of Seth's hand. The man had somehow managed to move them several feet away without even touching them, like he was a Jedi knight. Or a Sith, considering what he was currently doing to Tyler.

Ethan felt his heart wrench at the sight of the blade penetrating Tyler's wound, unable to look away as he continued to scream at Seth to stop. The man ignored him, as well as the other members of the group, which only made Ethan scream louder. Seth slowly but surely dragged the knife from one end of the wound to the other in a rhythmic pattern, painfully ripping at Tyler's exposed tissues and veins. More blood poured out from the hole in Tyler's body as the weapon continued to make it worse, dripping off of his stomach and onto the paper beneath him. Ethan tried to bolt forwards again and again, but each time he was thrown backwards before he could get close enough to actually do anything. He was forced to the sidelines as his friend was tortured and most likely killed right in front of him, the only option he was left with to hope that Tyler couldn't feel any of this. Maybe then he'd die peacefully.

Just as Ethan felt tears begin to stream down his cheeks, Seth finally removed the knife from Tyler's gut. The group fell silent as Seth gently set the weapon aside and began rummaging through the other things beside him, like he hadn't just stabbed the same person for the second time. Tyler remained motionless, not even crying out in pain or wincing in the slightest. This only fed Ethan's dreadful assumptions more, making him almost entirely sure that his friend was dead.

Thankfully, his assumptions were false.

A slight hissing noise filled the now quiet room, a barely audible sound even in the silence. With disgust Ethan realized it was coming from Tyler's direction, or more specifically, from his wound. The tear in his body was miraculously sealing itself closed, slowly recovering from the impact of the knife that had ripped it apart twice. Ethan watched with a mix of revulsion and curiosity as Tyler's skin and muscles repaired themselves, re-growing and reattaching to each other like they had minds of their own. After about half a minute, the wound had closed entirely, the only evidence that it had ever been there being a faint scar near his stomach.

Ethan looked away from Tyler to focus his attention on Seth to hopefully get some answers out of the strange man, but he'd already started working his magic on Mark. While Ethan had been fixated on Tyler's healing wound, Seth had already stripped Mark of his shirt and inserted the knife into the gash on the young man's back. After Seth pulled the blade out, the hissing noise returned again and Mark's wound also began to heal itself, taking less time to seal up than Tyler's had. While it repaired, Seth got busy with the cut on Mark's arm, cleaning the knife and re-dipping it into the bottle of the clear substance before gently placing the tip inside of the tear. He dragged the knife back and forth inside of it a few times before pulling it out, watching the cut begin to heal.

Just like that, the wounds from the fight that had happened only minutes ago had faded to faint scars, like it was all a distant memory.

_ How? _

Everyone in the group began to ask questions at once, all of their voices combined making it hard to distinguish specific inquiries. 

"Wait just one more minute," Seth said, putting a stop to their barrage of questions. "I'll give you some answers soon, I promise. There's still one thing I have to take care of first."

He cast the knife aside again and opened up the bottle of ink Ethan had gotten from the cupboard. Taking the quill in his right hand, the man dipped the tip into the bottle to coat it with the ink, then began to draw symbols on the paper Mark was resting on. Some looked the same as the ones drawn on the paper across the room, others looked completely different. Ethan had no idea what they meant or what kind of significance they held, but they seemed to be extremely important, as Seth was very careful and neat while drawing them.

He did the same thing to Tyler's paper, though some of the ones Seth drew there weren't the same as the ones he'd etched onto Mark's page. The pictures on both sheets of paper seemed to follow a similar pattern however, even though there were some slight variations between the two. A ring of the shapes surrounded both of the unconscious men, and five lines made up of even more symbols connected from the circle to each man's limbs. There were five lines total in each circle: one for the head, two for the hands and two for the feet.

Once Seth had finally finished with his drawings, he grabbed a bottle from his left side, the only thing he hadn't used out of the objects he and the group had collected. Opening it up, he dumped the contents of it onto his hand, covering his palm with a chalk-like bright blue powder. He smudged some of it onto his thumb, like he was about to do some finger painting.

The man muttered something indistinguishable, something that didn't sound like English. Right after he uttered the last syllable of whatever it was he said, the outer ring of symbols surrounding both Mark and Tyler turned from black to a literal glowing red. 

With all the weirdness that had just taken place, the glowing drawings didn't surprise Ethan at all. Of course they were magic. Why wouldn't they be?

Whatever Seth had murmured also caused the black Xs on Tyler and Mark's necks to reappear. But Ethan had a feeling that this time, thankfully, they didn't signify an upcoming demonic possession. Both men remained unconscious, and their skin stayed at its natural pigment. Alarming as they were, the marks weren't foreboding like they were before, which was a relief.

Seth smudged the blue powder from his thumb onto the X on each man's neck, making sure to copy over it with precision to the point where any black was overtaken by the blue of the powder. Again, he said something that Ethan couldn't quite make out, which resulted in the five lines inside of each circle glowing as well. Both pieces of paper were now lit up with the bright red symbols, cascading everything around them in light. Seth began murmuring once again, this time without stopping, causing the symbols to grow brighter and brighter until Ethan had to squint to be able to see. 

However, through the blinding red light, there was something else that caught Ethan's attention. Piercing through the auburn glow were two small X shaped rays of blue, cutting through the other dominant and fiery colour. The source of the two blue beacons were almost certainly coming from the marks on Mark and Tyler's necks, the blue powder Seth had applied glowing as a result of whatever incantation he'd uttered.

After what felt like an eternity, Seth finally stopped speaking, and the glowing from both the symbols on the paper and on the necks of the two unconscious men faded away. The drawings on the pages shifted back to black, but the neck markings remained the same vibrant shade of blue. Seth leaned over and dabbed at the markings with his index finger, as if he was trying to wipe away the powder he'd applied, but nothing happened. Nothing smudged or faded, and the blue remained unchanging. It seemed that the powder Seth had spread minutes before had now fused with Mark and Tyler's skin, staining it with the icy colour. Had it somehow replaced the black colour that the Xs had been originally?

Seth pulled out yet another handkerchief from his pocket (seriously, where did he get all of these?) and wiped the blue residue from his hands, then folded up the tarnished fabric and put it back from where he'd retrieved it.

"Now that that's over with," he said, smiling at the group. "The time for questions has finally come. But please, one at a time."

Amy, Kathryn and Ethan glanced back and forth at each other, silently deciding who would be the first to speak up.

"Who are you really?" Kathryn said, after their noiseless debate had been settled.

"That's a bit of a complicated answer," Seth said with a sigh. "But I'll do my best to explain it. 

First of all, I'm not human, as you already may have guessed. I'm from a world much different to this one, which unfortunately happens to be the same one that Dark and The Author are from. I am not confined to one set physical form, unlike you humans, and can alter my appearance at will."

To prove his point, Seth shifted into an almost identical version of Chica, which caused the real Chica to stare at her doppelganger with confusion. Before she could even open her mouth to bark, however, Seth transformed back to his previous appearance.

"Like that," he continued. "My real name also isn't Seth. I don't actually have a name, but since in this world you mortals hold so much importance in "names," I decided it would be best if I gave myself one for the time being."

Seth not being human didn't surprise Ethan, but instead confused him. If not human, then what was he?

"If you aren't human," Ethan said. "Then what are you?"

"Yet again, there is no simple answer," Seth replied. "My species doesn't have a name. The inhabitants in our world don't have individual names or a name for our entire race, because there's no need. To identify someone else, we read their aura, which I think is what you humans call a "soul." Each species across every dimension has a different one, and even each individual in each species has a different one. No two are the same."

Despite Seth saying that the answer was complicated, Ethan still understood what he meant. Of course, he knew there was a lot more to the story than what Seth had said, but he didn't want to pry. Mostly because this was the first thing he'd understood about any of this in a long time, and he really wanted it to stay that way.

"So Dark and The Author are the same as you? Also, how do you know them?" Amy asked.

"Yes, Dark and The Author, for the most part, are the same as me. We come from the same world and are part of the same race. "Dark" and "The Author" also aren't really their names, and like me they just gave themselves one. But that's about where the similarities end.

Back in my dimension, I'm part of the Head Council, meaning I'm part of the team that basically runs the world. I help vote on decisions and pass laws, things like that. A government official.

The reason I know Dark and The Author is because a very long time ago they tried to overthrow the Council and take over the dimension. They tried combining their powers, and with Dark's persuasion and ability to possess people and The Author's ability to manipulate reality by writing what he wants into existence, they quickly amassed an army out of our world's inhabitants. All of the people they enslaved were just puppets with no will of their own, forced to attack those they loved. The Author could influence them subtly with writing, and if they refused to cooperate Dark would step in and take over. The members of the Council were able to avoid contact with them and hid in a remote part of the dimension, one that would take them just long enough to find for us to come up with a plan.

While we were there, another member of the Council invented a weapon that could disrupt a person's physical form and weaken them long enough for us to get to their aura. You see, the powers and abilities that our kind have are held within our auras, and to take those powers away permanently you need to directly access their aura without their body in the way. Before this weapon was invented, there wasn't a way to do this without killing the person.

Because we didn't have a weapon of mass destruction strong enough to take out their army, thanks to many of them being Healers and healing those injured, or Guards, who were able to create force fields against our weapons, this new invention was our only hope. We used it to weaken the army by temporarily taking away their physical forms, meaning they literally couldn't touch us, long enough for us to get to Dark and The Author. We used the weapon on them and were able to access their auras, so we stripped them of their powers. That way they would no longer be able to control anybody when both their own and the other citizen's physical forms returned.

It worked. Those who had been enslaved regained their physical forms after a little while and were free from Dark and The Author's control. The two masterminds were locked up, now that they were incredibly weak, and myself and the other Council members sentenced them to different punishments."

Ethan expected Seth to continue, but he didn't. Instead he glanced down at the floor and remained silent. Ethan had a feeling there was something else that he was hiding from them, that there was something he'd left out from his story.

"If you locked them up and punished them, then why are they back?" Ethan asked.

"Because their sentences ended, and they were free to go after their punishments had been served. At first we kept a close eye on them, but since they showed signs of good behavior, we became more lax in our surveillance. Obviously, that was a mistake."

Ethan was still sceptical of Seth's answers, continuing to get the feeling that he wasn't telling them the whole truth. There was something about the way Seth answered that didn't sit right. But since Ethan had nothing to prove this and it was nothing more than a hunch, he remained silent about it.

"The only thing I can't figure out," Seth said suddenly. "Is why they're trying this again. We can just bring out the weapon again and things will end exactly like they did last time."

"The weapon doesn't work on humans."

Everyone's heads turned at the sound of the new voice that had entered the conversation, realizing that Mark was now awake and sitting upright, staring at all of them.

"The weapon doesn't work on humans," he repeated. "So he's building an army of humans."


	12. Chapter Ten

Mark had seen better days.

His hair was a mess, sticking to his face thanks to the sweat that covered it, making him look like he'd just run several miles in the heat rather than having been lying face down on the floor. Even without Dark, his eyes had bags underneath them that were accompanied by faint dark rings. He seemed to stare right through them all, as if they weren't even there. His unfocused eyes were clouded with mixed emotions, and his face displayed an expression of worrisome dread. He looked broken, soulless even. It was like a part of him was still stuck wherever his consciousness had been shoved to, his tired and beaten down appearance making him look like a hollow shell of the optimistic person he normally was. Dark's persistent presence in his body had clearly done some damage.

"And how do you know that, Mark?" Seth questioned, staring at the hollow man with a look of intrigued concern. 

"I can hear him," Mark replied, his words coming out rushed and jumbled. "Dark's constantly talking to me in my head. He tells me things from time to time, things about what exactly he plans to do, but most of the time he just mocks me. He's done this since he first entered my head several years back, but it's gotten worse thanks to everything that's been happening."

The words Mark spoke didn't even sound like his own. His voice had a dismal undertone to it, and the way he formed words was so unusual compared to the way he normally talked. His sentences were too quick, too harsh. If Amy had heard him speak without seeing his face, she honestly wouldn't have known it was him.

"Is he still there?" Seth asked the haggard looking man, seeming almost apologetic about making him continue the conversation.

"Yeah. He is."

Mark didn't elaborate any further, for very apparent reasons. Having an extradimensional being constantly screaming at you in your head isn't something you'd want to talk about.

He stared off at nothing again, looking at something the others couldn't see. Or perhaps he was remembering something, or thinking things over. Or he was being forced to listen to Dark mocking him incessantly. Whatever the case, his focus had drifted away, and his mind had wandered elsewhere. It made Amy's heart sink, how detached and absent he was. She should've been happy to see that he was back, and that Dark was gone, but her relief that he was alive was tainted by his uncharacteristic behaviour. It physically hurt her to see him like this, to see him act so unlike his usual self. Everything that made Mark, well, _Mark_ , seemed to have vanished overnight, leaving a hollow void behind. Dark wasn't in control anymore, but Amy knew that Mark still wasn't back. Not all of him.

"Mark?"

The sound of Amy's voice snapped Mark out of whatever trance he'd been in, bringing his spaced-out gaze back up to meet hers. He smiled meekly at her, but she could tell that his heart wasn't in it. There was no warmth or comfort behind that smile, despite Mark's best efforts. There was no sustenance to it. It was empty, devoid of the things it used to hold. Just like the rest of him now was.

Without hesitation Amy moved over to where Mark was sitting and wrapped her arms around him, careful to avoid the scar on his back in case it was still causing him pain. The empathetic gesture momentarily stunned Mark, but after a few seconds he relaxed and met Amy's embrace, wrapping his arms around her too. The rest of the group, except for Seth and a still unconscious Tyler, followed suit and joined the reunion. There were many words of relief and care shared amongst them, making it much more emotional than Amy had expected. Though it hadn't even been a day since they last really saw Mark, it felt like so much longer than that. Maybe it was because their last reunion turned out to be a ruse, and a play by Dark to emotionally manipulate them. Or maybe it was because it didn't really feel like Mark was entirely back yet.

Their little bittersweet display of compassion sadly only lasted only five minutes or so, because Seth eventually cleared his throat and began to speak once more, halting the get-together.

"Sorry to break this up," he said. "But I have a few more questions for Mark. We'll be right back, but in the mean time, please keep an eye on Tyler. He should be awake very soon."

Without explaining anything else, Seth stood up and walked back towards the numeral curtain, not even motioning for Mark to follow. It was like he expected Mark to know what to do already.

Apparently, he did know, because the young man got up stiffly and started to follow the taller man out of the room. His quick response made him seem comfortable with the situation, which helped ease Amy's nerves, but this was quickly undone when she caught a glimpse of Mark's face before he left.

Before his back was turned to her, Amy saw worry cloud the weary man's expression, which made her stomach twist in worry as well. It shouldn't have signified anything, but somehow it did. Mark's subtle change in expression was another reminder that they weren't out of the woods yet, serving as yet another nail in the coffin, another reminder that nothing was okay.

And she didn't know if anything would ever be okay again.

* * *

 

Seth scared Mark.

Not intentionally (he hoped), but the way the guy carried himself made Mark nervous. It was like he was calculating various different ways he could kill you every time you moved, like he was ready to fight at any moment. His analytical heterochromatic eyes held a look of terrifying intelligence. 

Him having a history with Dark didn't exactly help either. 

Having been forced to share a body with a supernatural entity, Mark got to know a lot about Dark. Probably more than he needed to. He'd learned quite a bit about Dark's past, and how messed up a lot of it had been. Just thinking about some of the horrors Dark had either been through or caused made his skin crawl. It almost made him feel bad for the being.

Almost.

Most of the memories and truths Mark had unintentionally discovered weren't really useful though, just collections of events and faces that meant nothing to him or gruesome depictions of torture and murder, but he was able to figure out that Dark and Seth had quite a long history together. They went way back, long before Seth helped decide on Dark's punishment. His human brain couldn't quite remember all the things he'd learned, as his mortal mind couldn't keep track of millions of years worth of memories, but he knew without a doubt that Seth was present in a lot of Dark's memories. And now that he knew who he was talking to, exactly who had just called him to a separate room to question him, it was an understatement to say that he was nervous.

"Please, take a seat," Seth said, gesturing to the couches they had been sitting on minutes ago.

Mark complied and sat down on one of the pieces of furniture, not taking his eyes off of the other man.

Seth took a seat in one of the cushy chairs across from him, sitting in it awkwardly and stiffly despite the mass amounts of cushioning.

"So," he started. "How are you?"

It took Mark a moment to register the question, as it hadn't been the one he'd been expecting. He thought Seth would grill him with questions about his encounter with Dark, how long he'd had to deal with the demon, how he'd managed to cause all this. The typical conversational pleasantries were an odd surprise.

"Um, I'm okay, I guess. I mean, I'm not okay, but you know what I mean."

Seth nodded at Mark's uncertain response. Apparently, he did know what Mark meant.

Silence. 

"Are you in any pain at all?"

Mark shrugged. "I'm a bit sore, but that's about it."

More silence.

Seth sighed with frustration before speaking again.

"Let's just cut to the chase. Stalling isn't going to help either of us."

Mark nodded. While he appreciated Seth's attempt at being polite, he was happy that they wouldn't be attempting to make a messed-up version of small talk for twenty minutes.

"I need you to start at the beginning. When did you first encounter Dark?"

Mark regaled Seth with the story of how Dark had tricked him many years ago, and the events that occurred afterwards. It was hard to tell him all the details, what with many of the months he spent with Dark reduced to hazy dream-like impressions, but also because Mark felt ashamed of it. He'd been completely blind to Dark's ulterior motives, ones that should've been so easy to spot, and it bothered him. He should've seen through it, should've realized Dark's plans sooner. Then they wouldn't be in this mess. Retelling all of it to Seth made him feel like a guilty child, one that had to explain to the principal why they had been called down to the office. After all, only a naïve child would have been fooled by Dark's lies.

And what a child he had been.

Seth didn't say anything for quite awhile, thinking over Mark's answer and mentally picking it apart for any events he deemed useful to their present predicament. If he pieced together something important, he didn't say anything, and his facial expression remained unchanging.

"We should never have restored some of his powers," he finally muttered, speaking so quietly Mark could barely hear him.

"What?"

"We gave him some of his powers back not too long ago. We thought he'd learned how to use them wisely after all of this, but it seems we were wrong, as he just went ahead and used them on a human. And to top it all off, he made a blood pact! A blood pact! There's a reason those are illegal!"

Illegal? Even in their weird messed up dimension? The thought was strange to Mark.

"Mark, this could quite literally kill you. Blood pacts are not something to make light of. As you already know, they bind the souls of two beings together, meaning the two now draw energy from each other and rely on that energy for survival. If one person in the pact dies, the other does too. Which leaves us in a rut. If we try to kill Dark while he's in your body, we'll kill you in the process, and he could easily leave moments before your death in order to spare his own life. And even if we somehow manage to remove Dark from your head, killing him would still kill you, thanks to your souls being linked."

Those words spelled disaster for the group, and Mark knew it. They couldn't kill Dark if he was in Mark's body, and they couldn't kill him if he was separate from Mark's body either. Both options would kill Mark too. 

"Does the same apply for Tyler?" Mark asked. "He's got the same mark on his neck too."

To Mark's relief, Seth shook his head. "No, the mark on both of your necks is from something else entirely, something of The Author's doing.

Years ago, just before Dark and The Author betrayed the Council, The Author spoke to me about a new "experimental method of cooperation" that he was working on. He invited me over to visit his place of dwelling one afternoon and showed me this vial of an odd fluid, which he went on to explain was a type of ink of his own invention. I'm not entirely sure how he managed to do it, but he was able to make ink that, upon injection into the human body, gave him total control of the victim's every action. That way he would no longer have to threaten or use brute force to gain someone's cooperation.

The Author had also managed to get a subject to test his experiment on. Whether they had willingly agreed to or not I'm still unsure of, though I can only hope it had been voluntary.

He pulled out a pen and notebook, then started frantically scribbling something across the pages. This caused his subject to begin pacing around the room and perform various actions. They moved with such ease and fluidity that they might've been able to pass as a normal person, if it weren't for the pale skin, black eyes and dark lines that covered their entire body.

He never went into detail on how the ink works, but I was able to deduce the technicalities thanks to the example he had shown me. What I believe happens is that the ink in The Author's pen reacts to the ink in the subject’s body thanks to some shared chemicals between the two substances and his natural ability to manipulate reality through writing. The properties of the ink are enhanced by and rely on his powers, meaning that anyone else who tries to wield the pen that contains the similar ink wouldn't be able to do a thing. He's the only one who's able to get it to work.

I saw this as incredibly dangerous, so naturally I excused myself and reported the incident to the Council, but not before swiping a sample of the ink to analyze. Unfortunately, it was only a few days later that Dark and The Author began forming their army. Oddly enough, he didn't use his new tactic during their attack, but it was mostly likely because it was still in an experimental stage."

"I guess he's perfected it now," Mark mused. 

"Yes, it would appear so."

"But he was using it during the fight a couple minutes ago. If he wasn't in the room with us, how did he know what to write?" While the details of the fight were hazy, Dark had still allowed Mark to remember certain moments from it. Specifically, Tyler's demonic appearance and the feeling of getting stabbed in the back and cut across the arm. He really did seem to enjoy Mark's pain.

"Him not being either in the room or at least nearby makes no sense. I didn't detect it at the time, but I fear he was there for the whole thing, watching from a hiding place most likely, so he could see what was going on. I believe he and Dark were both controlling Tyler during that fight, combining their abilities to make it easier to pilot him."

Mark tensed up, suddenly feeling very uneasy. If The Author had been present throughout their whole brawl without even Seth being aware of his presence, who's to say he wasn't sill there, listening in on their conversation? In fact, he'd probably followed Dark and Tyler back to Ethan's place and had been spying on them ever since. And he probably wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, wherever it was he was hiding. Knowing that there could be someone watching them from afar at all times made Mark incredibly paranoid.

"Without the ink from The Author's pen," Seth continued. "I can't make a permanent cure. I only have one half of the project, information gathered from the sample of injectable ink I stole, and without all of it, I can only make a temporary solution. The seal I placed on your neck will last two days maximum before The Author can influence you once more. And thanks to the blood pact that you're stuck in with Dark, as well as the fact that the weapon we used years and years ago apparently doesn't work on humans, we can't break his hold on you and Tyler."

"And there's no way to get Dark out of my head?"

"Not by choice. He could leave voluntarily, but I highly doubt he would do that on our terms."

Seth obviously didn't have a solution to their problem, and neither did Mark. Their conversation had caused all hope to fly out the window, which was the opposite of its original purpose, and had only dampened the mood further. Dark and The Author had clearly thought out this plan in great detail, most likely taking ages to prepare it, and all Mark and the others had were two days at the most to figure things out. They were at an extreme disadvantage here, one that would be difficult to overcome.

Not wanting to contribute to this hopeless conversation anymore, Seth started to get up and walk back towards the room where the others were, but before he did, he spoke to Mark one last time.

"Mark?" The taller man wasn't even facing the man he was talking to, like he was afraid to face him.

"Yeah?"

"If we can't find a way to get Dark out of your body, or get a hold of The Author's pen, do you understand what has to happen?"

Mark nodded, even though Seth couldn't see it. "I understand."

Saying nothing else, Seth left the room and left Mark alone on the couch. He hadn't even needed to explain his proposition any further, as it was one Mark had already considered multiple times. The outcome he had hinted at wasn't the best one, but if it meant taking out Dark, then Mark was all for it.

Even if it killed him too.


	13. Chapter Eleven

Midnight was an odd time.

Aside from the fact that it was the stereotypically scariest time of day, it was normally quite peaceful, especially if you lived in more remote areas. A hush would fall over the streets, the bright beacons of light streaming from people's houses shutting off one by one and succumbing to the darkness of the night. The majority of shops would close, their doors locked for several hours, stopping the steady stream of customers that would walk in and out during the brighter hours of the day. Sleepy travellers would occasionally drive down the deserted roads, bringing life and light to the streets for just a moment before disappearing again, leaving everything still and silent once more. Maybe the occasional group of drunks would stumble home from a night of alcohol induced fun, but other than that, no one traversed down the night time roads. But it wasn't that they were all asleep. There were always people who are still awake at this time, most likely curled up inside their homes watching movies or scrolling through social media, or perhaps enraptured by a good book. No, sleep wasn't the real reason for the lifeless boulevards. The real reason was that none dared to go outside and give long-lasting life to the streets at this hour. It was far too dangerous. Everyone's heard stories about things that happen to people who venture down quiet midnight roads alone, the cautionary tales about the kinds of monsters that lurk in the night.

Monsters like Dark.

Who just so happened to be lurking by one of these deserted midnight roads a couple hundred kilometres outside of Brighton, England.

A slight crisp breeze gently tousled the hair on his head, causing him to try and brush it back into place with his fingers as he inhaled the night air. Being cooped up in someone else's head for years on end and being forced to breathe through that person's lungs really makes you appreciate fresh air.

Admittedly, Seth's intervention had slowed their progress a little. They hadn't planned on encountering anyone from their old dimension, much less Seth of all people, and it had taken them by surprise. Now, thanks to some doodles Seth had drawn on a page and some chalk he'd put on Mark's neck, Dark couldn't possess Mark for two days, and The Author couldn't influence him. The same applied for Tyler as well, which was frustrating. They had no way of deceiving the rest of the group anymore, no pawns to use to get to the others. It wasn't like waiting out those two days was really a viable option either, because it gave Seth and the others time to conspire against them, and time was of the essence. 

It seemed that Plan A had gone out the window, at least for now.

Which is why there was a Plan B.

"Do you have everything?" Dark asked suddenly after sensing an approaching presence behind him grow close enough to hear him speak.

"Yes, everything is in order."

The Author stepped out from behind Dark and stood at his side, neither of the two turning their heads to face one another. They didn't feel the need to.

"I thought you'd be more excited about this," Dark said to the other being, his gaze still focused straight ahead. "You have so many fewer restrictions with this plan than you did with the last one. You even get to build a character."

"I know, I'm just displeased that we had to go through the trouble of switching plans. This throws us off schedule."

He paused, thinking his next words over.

"But I will admit, I'm quite excited to bring a new character to life. I haven't had the chance to do this in ages, and I've missed it a great deal. I've already jotted down some traits I'd like to integrate."

Dark smiled, content that The Author was enthused by what was to come. It meant he would be more focused on the tasks that he needed to perform, which left less room for error, which in turn would eliminate the need for them to switch plans again. That, and it meant his old partner could have some fun for a change. He hadn't been allowed to do anything remotely amusing for thousands of years, so why not make things more enjoyable?

"Shall we get going? I don't want to miss our window of opportunity." Dark suggested, knowing his accomplice was eager to begin.

Even though Dark wasn't facing the other being, he could almost sense the grin plastered on The Author's face.

"The sooner the better."

Two small bright lights appeared at the end of the road, a couple of glowing dots on the horizon. They started off as just two pin pricks of white, but gradually got brighter and larger as the object they were attached to drew closer. The car they were apart of was very simple in design, though Dark had no idea what kind it was. He didn't really care either. All he cared about was that it wouldn't attract too much attention, which is exactly what they needed right now.

Through the window you could see the face of a terrified man, who was gazing at the two foreign entities standing on the side of the road with a mix of confusion and fear. He slowed down for a moment, the odd looking figures surprising him, before he realized it would be best if he got the hell away from them. He started to speed up again, his eyes draining of any emotion other than terror. Dark relished it for a moment, taking in the masterpiece of an emotion known as fear, before giving The Author the signal.

"Now."

In a flash The Author pulled out his notebook and pen, the actions quick and fluid thanks to many eons of muscle memory. Before the man in the car could speed off into the distance, the being swiftly wrote something down on a page, causing the vehicle to grind to a halt. 

Dark sauntered over to the right side of the car, The Author only a few steps behind him. He tried to open the door to get to the man on the other side of it, only to find that it was locked. The driver must have locked all the doors when he saw the two beings approaching. Smart guy. But another bout of writing from The Author and the man's desperate attempt at saving himself was undone. A satisfying click signified that the doors were unlocked again, and that the man in the car was royally screwed.

Dark opened the driver's side door, and before the man inside could try anything, the being leaned in close and uttered a single command.

"Sleep."

Instantaneously the man went limp and slumped forward onto the steering wheel, slipping into unconsciousness. Normally that kind of command wouldn't have worked right off the bat, and it might've even taken multiple tries under different circumstances. But the man was scared, which gave Dark a huge advantage, as fear was the easiest emotion to work with. It was part of the reason of why he enjoyed it so much. The mind is at its most vulnerable when a person is afraid, looking for comfort or safety in absolutely anything, desperate for security. Dark was able to easily manipulate someone in this state, as their subconscious mind was yearning for a sense of trust anywhere it could find it. 

The two beings took the sleeping man out of the car and carried him to an area filled with tall grass by the side of the road. They did their best to cover up the guy's unconscious body with surrounding plants, because the longer they could go without word of what had happened to this man getting out, the better. 

"Killing him would've been better," The Author grumbled on their short walk back to the stolen vehicle.

"A murder would've only caused us more problems. We've been over this. The less attention we attract the better."

The Author muttered something indiscernible as they both got into the car, most likely complaining about Dark's methods. The other being didn't mind though. The Author would be giddy with excitement when they reached their destination, and his complaints would soon cease.  

The car sputtered to life once more, driving down the deserted midnight road and taking with it any signs of life and light. The darkened street was left in silence again, as the monsters moved on to hunt someone new.

And they had a very specific someone in mind

* * *

 

The sound of Jack's feet hitting the pavement in a rhythmic pattern echoed throughout the night, the only noise that could be heard in the deafening midnight silence. It was slightly eerie, how everything in the environment around Jack remained still and silent, when normally it would be so filled with life. For some it might feel tranquil and almost pleasant, but Jack wasn't a fan. He liked when the streets were bursting with people, bustling with light and noise as everyone went about their day to day lives. Hell, he just liked people in general, so the fact that he hadn't seen a single person on his walk did not set his mind at ease. Brighton wasn't a small place. Where was everyone?

A loud clattering sound came from behind the green-haired man, the sudden noise causing him to jump. He whirled around to check for anyone or anything behind him, only to find nothing but a dark and empty sidewalk. No person, no animal. Nothing. 

Jack cautiously turned around again and continued walking, hoping that the noise really had been nothing at all. Similar occurrences had happened throughout his walk, some more than once. He kept seeing things and hearing things that turned out to be figments of his paranoia filled imagination, faces in the darkness or the sound of a gun firing right behind him. His mind was repeatedly conjuring monsters from the dark, bringing forth bone-chilling sights and sounds, the likes of which you would see in a horror movie. From the outlandish nature of most of them Jack could tell they weren't real, but some of them really made him nervous. There were quite a few, like the clattering noise moments ago, that bordered much too close to realistic for Jack's liking.

He should've just waited until morning to get some snacks. Sleep deprivation was not helping his overactive imagination, and was in fact the most probable cause of all these hallucinations. If he'd just gotten some rest and waited a few hours, he would've been fine. Going out alone had also been a mistake. He had no one to walk to the store with that night, which had been setting him on edge throughout the whole trip.

He really should've thought this through better.

With a sigh he started to turn and walk back the way he came, quickening his pace. This had been a bad idea. Candy was not worth sacrificing his sanity, and he desperately wanted to go home. 

But then something caught his eye.

Two bright headlights at the very end of the road, steadily moving in his direction at an alarmingly fast pace, one that had to be well over the speed limit.

For a moment, Jack thought it was just his imagination again. Another product of his frightened and tired mind, a projection of his weary brain's anxiety. But the lights kept coming closer and closer, never wavering and showing no signs of disappearing.

There was a car heading straight towards him at high speed on a deserted road in the middle of the night.

And it was real.

Jack turned around again and broke into a sprint, knowing full well that he couldn't outrun a speeding car but trying anyways. The sound of his feet hitting the pavement made a much louder sound now, one that was no longer rhythmic and soft but irregular and panicked. He stopped and started multiple times, trying the doors to the shops that lined the sidewalks and praying that maybe one might be open, but to no avail. None of them budged, locked shut and standing firmly in place, meaning all he was doing was closing the already shrinking gap between him and the speeding vehicle. 

The frightened man attempted to duck into an alley between two buildings, only to find the narrow path blocked with piles of junk. Garbage cans, cardboard boxes and bags of trash were arranged in a wall like pattern, as if they were placed there specifically to stop him. The same predicament was found in the next alley over, and the one after that. It was illogical, the way the world seemed to be working against him. How every possible escape route was conveniently blocked.

The car was practically on top of him now, close enough so that Jack could make out the outline of the person sitting in the driver's seat. A few more seconds and he'd be roadkill, and there was nothing he could do about it. This person would run him over, and that would be that.

In one last attempt to do something about the situation, Jack pulled out his phone to call someone, anyone, just as the speeding car ground to a halt just a couple feet away from him. It made the man freeze for a moment, as he had expected the car to just run right over him, not stop moments before. The halt in the vehicle's movement surprised him long enough for the driver to roll down the window and call out to him in a distinctly familiar voice.

"Jack?"

The sound of his pursuer speaking only puzzled him further. Though it made no sense, it sounded exactly like...

"Mark?"

Sure enough, as the figure in the car turned on a light within the vehicle, there he was. Mark. In a car. In Brighton. In the middle of the night. In front of Jack.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jack asked, his fear from moments ago morphing into confusion.

"No time to explain," Mark said, nervously glancing back at the road behind him, his movements flustered and unsure. "Get in the car."

"Mark, what-"

"Hurry!"

Jack did as he said and walked to the passenger side door, taking a seat next to Mark, though he wasn't really sure why he had complied. He had no idea what was happening or where Mark would take him, and yet he'd jumped in the car anyways.

 But one look at Mark's face gave him a good reason for his actions. His friend was tense, his hands grasping the steering wheel so tightly Jack was sure it would break, and his jaw was clenched in concentration. Not only that, but there was a look in his eyes that filled Jack with concern. His gaze was unfocused and filled with a kaleidoscope of emotions, all of them pouring through his dark brown eyes at once. You could practically see all the thoughts that were running rampant through his head, all of the information he was trying to process, flowing out like a waterfall.

He looked terrified. 

"Mark, what the absolute fuck is going on? What the hell are you doing in Brighton?"

His friend sighed. "It's a long story, one that I don't quite understand myself. I don't even remember most of it. All I know is that there's somebody after me right now. Somebody after all of us."

Mark cursed under his breath and took a sharp right turn, leaving Jack grasping at his seat to keep his head from slamming into the window.

"All of us?"

Another sharp turn and near collision with the window.

"You're not making any sense."

"I know, I know. It'll make sense in time. Just, please Jack, trust me, okay?"

"Okay."

Mark's vague replies weren't helpful in the slightest, and probably should've frustrated Jack, but he didn't care. He trusted Mark, and even though whatever was going on couldn't be good, Jack still wanted a part in it. He'd never seen Mark like this before, and it caused him a great deal of worry. Whatever had caused his friend to become this stressed and scared was obviously something that couldn't be fought alone, and Jack had no intention of leaving him to attempt to do so. 

"Why are you in Brighton?" He asked, hoping to get a more straightforward answer this time.

"I had to leave America. Wasn't safe there. This was the first place that came to mind."

Mark took another sharp turn, heading left this time, and started driving back in the direction they came from. Did he even know where he was going?

"When did you get here?"

"I'm not sure. Roughly a few hours ago."

Jack frowned. "Why didn't you call me? I could've helped you."

"I didn't want to put you in danger. But I guess it didn't matter, because now you're in danger anyways."

Mark's words were swimming through Jack's head, not making any sense whatsoever. He had so many questions for Mark and so few answers, the sheer magnitude of the situation making his head spin and causing it to become harder to form words. All the sentences he wanted to say got stuck in his muddled psyche, making his mind one mess of confusion.

"Amy, Kathryn, Tyler and Ethan managed to get out okay, but I don't know about anyone else. Last time I checked Bob and Wade were fine-"

Sharp right turn.

_ He really didn't know where he was going, did he? _

"But that was yesterday. They could be dead by now, for all I know. I just hope they got out okay."

_ Dead? _

Sharp left turn.

"I haven't even checked up on Felix or PJ yet, which isn't good. Hopefully we get to them in time, if we're not already too late."

_ Too late? What could've happened to them? _

Sharp left turn.

"Shit, Ken's still in America. We could try and go back, but it might be risky, and they might just start targeting everyone in Brighton now that I'm here."

_ Why is everything spinning? _

Sharp right turn.

More talking.

Sharp right turn.

More talking.

Sharp left turn.

"Hey, are you okay?"

At some point in their conversation, Jack had started clutching his head, and his eyes had become unfocused and spaced out. He'd begun to feel increasingly dizzy and lightheaded throughout Mark's unclear explanation, getting to the point where he couldn't even move. It was becoming harder to focus the longer Mark talked, all of Jack's thoughts slowly piling up and weighing down his mind to the point where his actual skull felt too heavy for his neck. 

"Yeah, I just feel a bit lightheaded..." Jack said struggling to put the words together.

"Just a few more minutes and we'll be there. Do you think you can last that long?"

Jack nodded weakly, his brain too hazy and muddled to form a verbal reply.

The Irish man was acutely aware of Mark starting to talk again. Jack tried to pay attention at first, but his dizziness eventually got so bad that he couldn't even pick out distinct words anymore. It was like his friend's words were echoing and bouncing around in Jack's skull, the reverberation of them so loud and overpowering that he couldn't even figure out what the original sentence was. How had it gotten this bad this fast? He was totally fine a couple of minutes ago, and now suddenly his brain just decided to quit on him. Why?

But the longer it went on for, and the more muddled his brain got, the less he began to care about that answer. It became quite soothing, how everything was slowly becoming numb and featureless, the way his thoughts had just started to blend together and fade away. Mark's voice became white noise as he felt his mind slowly slip further and further, falling so far away that he was on the brink of unconsciousness. He knew that he probably should be scared, wondering why this was happening or trying to stop it, but he no longer had the energy to do any of those things. All he wanted to was stay here, blissfully unaware of everything and drifting away from the world. 

"Jack?"

Though Mark was speaking at a normal conversational volume, the sound of his name sounded incredibly loud to Jack, like it was coming from inside his own head. There was something strange about it, something different about the way it sounded. His friend's voice was deeper and distorted, inhuman even.

"Can you hear me?"

Jack could hear the sound of his own voice murmuring something in reply, but he had no clue what he just said. Probably something along the lines of yes. He didn't really have the energy to care.

"Okay Jack, I'm gonna need you to do something for me, but I need your full cooperation. Can you do that for me?"

Jack heard his voice say something in reply again, his words even more faded and muffled this time. It didn't come as a surprise or a red flag though. In fact, Jack welcomed the quietness. 

"There are some people who want me dead, and I need help taking them out. But I can't do it alone. I need your help. I want you to fight them with me, and help me get rid of them for good.  Not only will it keep me safe, but you as well. This opportunity can help you.

I can help you. 

You just need to let me in."

Jack could faintly hear himself reply one last time, his own words so quiet and faded that he had barely noticed that he'd said anything at all. He'd somehow fallen even further away from consciousness, so out of it it was a wonder he'd been able to hear Mark talk. His head was such a mess of jumbled thoughts, words and memories that it had physically pained him to pay attention to Mark while he was talking, even though he'd only uttered a couple of sentences. The man could feel all his energy draining from his body, leaving behind his tired mess of a brain, one that was hardly even functioning at this point. It almost felt like his very soul was fading away, like every memory and emotion and anything that made him who he was being taken from him.

But that wasn't the scariest part.

The scariest part was that he didn't even care.

A small but sharp pain on his neck was the last thing he felt.

And then he felt nothing at all.


	14. Chapter Twelve

The words "hop in the interdimensional portal" weren't the ones Mark had been expecting to hear first thing the next morning. 

He also didn't expect to be wielding a sword whilst screaming bloody murder.

The group had spent the rest of the previous day attempting to formulate plans in Seth's living room, which didn't exactly go well. Like Mark and Seth had already figured out during their conversation, they had next to no options, and talking to everyone else about the situation hadn't changed that. Seth was the only one who had experience in this department, and even he had limited knowledge about Dark and The Author's weaknesses.

They'd all decided to sleep on it, which Mark honestly didn't expect to help anything, and come back to the topic the next morning. Seth had helped set up some places for them to rest, since it had been unanimously decided that nobody was to be left alone for extended periods of time, and they all called it a night.

And then Seth proceeded to wake all of them up by sounding an alarm he had built into the house and handing them all weapons.

Which is why the group was now standing in the back room of Seth's little house, all of them only half awake and incredibly confused. Their host was running around like a mad man, spouting stuff about "grab the weapons" and "I'm 90% sure humans can physically handle interdimensional travel."

Considering there was a 10% of uncertainty there, and that he had said the word "interdimensional," Mark and the others wanted answers.

"You know, it might help all of us out if you explained what the hell is going on right now," Kathryn said as Seth rushed up to her and handed her a dagger.

"We're heading back to my dimension," he explained, gathering what looked like grenades off of his shelf. "To speak to the High Council. I believe if we seek an audience with Them and explain what's going on, then They might agree to help us."

He shoved a sword into a drowsy Tyler's arms, then turned and tossed Amy a backpack and a rifle.

"And we're just going to hop through a portal to get there, with a small chance that our bodies will be unable to handle it and explode?" Amy said, examining the contents of the backpack that the frantic man had just handed her. Her face displayed mild concern as she pulled out what looked like a pen with a glowing small blade at the tip. Slowly she put the object back in the bag and zipped it up again, which was probably a good idea.

"Precisely. Though I don't know if explode would be the right word. Potentially ripped apart molecule by molecule is more accurate."

"Lovely," Mark muttered.

Seth paid no attention to the man's sarcastic statement and continued explaining. 

"The High Council, including myself, are the only people who have fought Dark and The Author and lived to tell the tale, and we need information. I have hope that at least one of Them will have information that I do not, the piece of the puzzle that we are missing. After all, We were able to create a weapon that took them out the last time we put our heads together. I'm sure We'll be able to do it again."

He handed Ethan a small futuristic looking gun, much to the recipient's concern. "But if we're going to politely ask these... people for help, then why all the weapons? We're not blackmailing anybody, are we?"

The slight smile on his face said that Ethan had been joking about that last part, but Seth's expression and tone were dead serious.

"No, there's no need for blackmailing today. Not that we'd even be able to succeed anyways. They're a rather large group of extremely powerful beings, and all of you are mortals with no experience in fighting creatures from other realms. The weapons are just precautions."

Precautions for what? Seth was part of the High Council, wasn't he? Why would They attack one of Their own?

This was just another example of Seth's explanations being a bit dodgy. It seemed he never revealed the whole truth to the group, which left them with more questions than answers. Too many things just didn't add up. If Seth and Dark had such an extensive history, which Mark knew thanks to Dark's memories, then why did Seth continue to insist that he didn't know how to beat him? Surely, he must have found a way to remove Dark from a person's head after all these years of knowing him. The same applied for The Author as well. How had he not managed to gain a sample of the ink from his pen after such a long time? And why was he here, on Earth? If he was just a normal citizen from another world, then maybe Mark could choose to believe he wanted to explore other worlds and leave it at that, but Seth was literally in charge of assisting in the ruling of an entire dimension. Why would someone that important be in another world, living in obscurity?

There was a lot more to Seth and his life than what he was letting on.

Before anyone else could ask more questions, Seth unfurled a piece of cream coloured paper and set it on the ground, drawing more of his strange symbols on it and quietly murmuring something. Just like the day before, the drawings began to glow, filling the room with a brilliant purple light and making it hard to focus on the source.

After a few moments had passed, the light dimmed enough so that the group no longer had to shield their eyes and could look back at the enchanted piece of paper again. Everyone's jaws, apart from Seth's, dropped at the sight of what had become of the spot that had been normal only seconds ago. Instead of a ring of symbols on the page, there was now a glowing purple circular hole in the dimension, a portal to another world lying right there on the ground. What was on the other side of said portal couldn't be seen, as the surface of the dimensional gateway was completely opaque, a mix of different shades of purples that flowed and blended together. It almost looked like food colouring mixed with water, if the water was a rip in space time and the food colouring was whatever radioactive or ectoplasmic substance was in the portal.

"I'll go through first and wait for you all on the other side," Seth instructed. "Once everyone is present and accounted for we shall proceed to the Hall to seek an audience with my fellow Council members. I would advise you to stay close behind me the whole time we are there."

Seth move to plunge into the portal, but stopped just before he jumped in to say one last thing.

"And in case it wasn't already obvious, the dog is staying here. My dimension is no place for a species such a hers, and I do not want any harm to come to her. I've made sure to put anything dangerous far out of her reach, and have left some food and water for her over in the kitchen."

Mark glanced over at the kitchen to see if Seth was being truthful, and found a bowl of dog food and another bowl of water, just as he'd said. Though he was hesitant to leave Chica in the house of an otherworldly being by herself, the young man knew it was most likely safer for her here than the place on the other side of the portal.

Mark turned around again just as Seth jumped through the wormhole, disappearing entirely through it and hopefully popping out on the other side. Everyone who remained in the room nervously glanced at one another, not wanting to be the first to volunteer and jump in after their strange new companion. Seth had said it could potentially kill them after all, so they had every right to be reluctant.

"You know what, I'm gonna be the brave one and just jump," Kathryn said, slinging a backpack that Seth had given her over her shoulder and jumping through the gateway after the man before anyone could stop her.

After another round of nervous silence, Amy was the one to jump in next, not saying anything to the rest of the group but instead smiling and waving at them as she fell through the wormhole.

Which left just Ethan, Mark and Tyler.

"Rock paper scissors?" Ethan suggested.

Mark looked at the portal, mentally working up the courage to go through. "With my luck lately, I'll end up going first anyways. I think I'll just save us some time and jump right now."

So, after giving Chica a pet goodbye, Mark closed his eyes and jumped through the otherworldly hole in the floor, hoping that it wouldn't kill him.

* * *

 

Good news: He didn't die.

Bad news: It felt like he'd been struck by lightning whilst in a swimming pool, except weirder.

The sensation lasted only a few seconds, and yet it was one of the mot bizarre and painful things Mark had ever experienced. He plunged into some sort of otherworldly liquid that was neither hot nor cold, and then suddenly felt an almost electric sensation rocket throughout his body. Every cell became charged with a type of energy unknown to Mark, burning through his anatomy like fire and making him feel like he himself was made of electricity. The longer he remained submerged in this strange liquid the stronger it became, becoming so powerful Mark was sure his cells would become so charged with energy that they'd blast away from his body.

Thankfully, before that could happen, Mark felt his body emerge from the supernatural substance and crash to whatever ground was on the other side of it.

"Alright, that's three out of five. Let's hope the other two make it out okay."

Mark looked up from the ground that he had fallen on at Seth, who was currently circling him and inspecting the man from all angles. Mark had a sneaking suspicion that he was checking for any genetic deformities that would've occurred thanks to the portal, which made him paranoid that he would find a third ear on the back of his head the next time he had a shower.

"You might want to move out of the way now," Seth said, offering Mark his hand. "Or Tyler and Ethan will land right on top of you."

Mark followed his advice and reached for Seth's hand, allowing the other man to help pull him to his feet and giving him a chance to get a proper view of the world he had just entered.

The most noticeable feature about this place was that there was no sky. Or rather, there was a sky, but it just looked like an empty black void of nothingness looming above them. It threw Mark for a loop for a second, as normally he'd associate a dark sky with being filled with stars, but this sky was empty. No moon, no sun, no stars. Just black. His brain told him that it shouldn't be possible and that it defied the laws of nature, but they weren't on Earth anymore. Who knew what laws of nature applied in this world.

After he got over the fact that the sky was black, Mark noticed the buildings that surrounded him. Surprisingly, they looked like places you would find on Earth. There wasn't anything distinctly "alien" about them, no super high-tech features decorating the exteriors or spaceships parked in front of them. All of them were exactly the same. Grey with a metal door, two stories high and box-like in shape with a flat roof. Nothing special.

The plants that inhabited this world, however, were quite special. All of them were so different and unique in colour, shape and size that Mark could scarcely believe they were actually plants. There was what looked like a tree a few feet away from them, except it was an icy shade of blue and was roughly the size of the Empire State Building, the grass they stood on was like treading on soft green cubes, there was a flower that appeared to have teeth and a tongue, which Mark and the others were careful to stand well away from, and even a row of tiny little grey cacti planted in someone's garden.

Though the appearances of several things in this world were... jarring, to say the least, Mark was able to adjust to seeing them fairly quickly. Nothing seemed super dangerous, apart from that one plant, and they hadn't been attacked by anything yet. Maybe this new dimension of terrifyingly powerful beings wouldn't be so scary after all.

And then Mark saw said terrifyingly powerful beings and immediately retracted that thought.

No two of them were the same, all of them in a variety of shapes and sizes, but not in the same way humans were. These things were so different from each other that they almost looked like entirely different _species_ all together. Some were ten feet tall with wings and horns, others only went up to Mark's knees and were covered in fur. Skin, scales, feathers, fur, claws, fangs. You name it, at least one of them had it. Countless beings of incredibly different appearances walked up and down the street, glaring at the group of humans as they went past and making Mark feel like they'd kill him if he ventured too close.

Was this why they needed the weapons?

Mark's attention was drawn back to the portal as he heard a cry of pain and a loud thud as someone else hit the ground. It seemed Ethan had been the next one to jump through, landing on the ground in a half sitting/half lying down position that looked considerably painful.

Seth started to walk over to help the new arrival up, only to be stopped in his tracks as Tyler fell out of the portal as well. Fortunately, Ethan was able to realize what was happening quickly and rolled out of the way to avoid being crushed by a falling Tyler.

"I told you to wait!" Ethan cried, his tone implying that he was annoyed that Tyler had almost landed on top of him.

"I did!"

"Then why did you come through immediately after me?"

"I thought I waited long enough!"

"How is a couple of seconds long enough?"

"Gentleman, we really don't have time for this," Seth cut in. "The quicker we get this done the better.

The man nervously glanced behind him, which made Mark notice that Tyler and Ethan had unknowingly drawn a small crowd around them. Ethan obviously hadn't really been furious at Tyler and was joking for the most part, but Mark had a feeling the beings around them didn't know that. About ten or so of the creatures stood only an arm's length away from them, some looking at the group with curiosity, others with contempt. Maybe even bloodlust, which appeared to be the case for the dragon-like creature at the back of the group who was staring at them with hungry serpentine eyes.

Seth helped both Ethan and Tyler to their feet, his movements calm and careful. Despite the fact that the creatures that watched them were Seth's brethren, he too seemed nervous by their interest in the group's conversation. Like he didn't trust his own species.

"Stay close," he said, lowering his voice. "I don't want anyone dying before we even get to the Hall."

The looks in the eyes of the beings watching them gave Mark the feeling that dying was very much a possibility here, so naturally he and the others shuffled after Seth in a hurry and averted their gaze from the supernatural beings.

The walk to what Seth called the "Hall" was painfully quiet and uncomfortable. No matter how many twists and turns they took down different roads, it seemed there would always be a creature there to meet them. To watch them. To stare at them with eyes that held emotions that Mark wished weren't directed at him and the others. It made him feel like a caged animal, like he was a creature in a pet store being gawked at by a bunch of unpredictable little kids. Like he could be taken away by anyone of them at any time and accidentally be killed. Except these creatures weren't little kids, and Mark knew that if he died at their hands, it wouldn't be an accident. 

After several minutes of marching through the streets and being stared at by freaky looking paranormal entities, Seth finally motioned for them to stop in front of a large auditorium type building.

"We're here. Don't say anything unless I tell you to."

He adjusted his posture and set his shoulders back, then smoothed out his suit and started walking towards the front entrance of the large building with an air of confidence he hadn't carried with him on their journey there. It was if he was trying to appear purposeful or important all of a sudden, like he was trying to come across as intimidating, which made Mark even more uneasy about the looks the other creatures had given him.

He got the feeling they were not welcome here.

Seth strode forwards and pushed open the door to the establishment, holding it open for the humans and waiting for them to walk inside. Begrudgingly, they did so, worried about what waited for them beyond that door.

Beyond the entrance was a large and circular room, with a ceiling so tall you scarcely make out the pictures of demon-like creatures painted on it, or the crystal chandelier hanging from the centre that was comically tiny for the stature of the room it was in. The walls were decorated with ornaments of all kinds, from plaques with names in unknown languages on them to giant and frightening weapons that put Seth's collection to shame. Most of them had to be at least five times the size of an average person, and that estimate was probably on the low side. 

Other than the assorted objects that covered them, the walls themselves were pretty bland. They were painted a simple grey colour that looked incredibly dull and boring with this room's poor lighting. The floor was the same way, a pattern of black rectangular tiles that stretched across the room, each one exactly the same as the one next to it and making the floor appear aesthetically uninteresting.

In front of the group stood a ridiculously tall wooden bench, like the kind you'd find in a court room but wider. If Mark and the others were standing directly in front of it, he wasn't sure they would even be able to see the tall dark figures that stood behind it.

Out of everything in this room, those tall dark figures were what interested Mark the most, but not necessarily in a good way. He presumed that they were the other members of the High Council, but they looked nothing like Seth or the other creatures that had roamed the streets outside. In fact, they didn't look like anything at all. They had no faces, no hair, nothing that set them apart from each other. Their bodies were black and wispy, like someone had somehow managed to take black smoke and somewhat shape it into something that resembles a human. Apart from the edges of the figures flickering and dancing like flames, the beings didn't move at all, not bothered by the entrance of five random humans and another Council member, not moving to stop the group as they drew closer and closer. They seemed to regard the group the way a human would regard an ant they saw on the ground outside. Nothing more than a non-threatening pest.

"My fellow Council members," Seth said suddenly, annunciating so he could be heard in this large room. "I seek Your assistance in a rather dangerous situation."

The smoky beings didn't react, remaining silent and unmoving, like they hadn't even heard Seth speak.

Seth however, furrowed his brow and looked deep in concentration, like he was pondering something that one of them had just said even though he was the only one to have spoken.

"I think my human companions would be interested in what all of You have to say. Could You do us the favour of speaking verbally and not telepathically?"

"Why should we care about what a group of humans wants?" One of them suddenly snapped, though Mark couldn't tell which. None of them had mouths or eyes to signify who the speaker was. The voice didn't sound particularly feminine or masculine either, just disembodied and robotic. "Their kind have done nothing for us."

"Because these humans are involved in something that concerns all of You, and every one else in this world." Seth retorted, his tone brimming with self assurance.

None of the beings spoke for a moment, taking what Seth said into consideration. 

"Explain," one said, though Mark couldn't tell if it was the same or a different being than last time.

Seth nodded briefly before speaking again. "I regret to inform You that the rogues, the ones who call themselves Dark and The Author, are back. They've begun to plot against Us one more, and are attempting to assemble another army."

"And how does this concern the humans?"

"Dark has made a blood pact with one of them, and is using them as his host vessel. He and The Author are using them to get to several other humans, so that the two can gain control of a great deal of people and force them to fight against all of You."

"Then we shall use the weapon forged in the last battle against the rogues," one of Them suggested.

Seth hesitated before speaking again, his confidence wavering momentarily. "Unfortunately, the weapon doesn't work on humans. It will do them no harm, as they are not made of the same things we are made of. Their physical forms can't be disrupted in this manner, and as long as Dark remains in the mind of his new host, we can't access his aura."

A sound rang out and echoed off of the walls, one that resembled a disappointed sigh.

"I presume you still haven't found a way to get rid of that pest from someone's mind?"

"Um, no, not exactly," Seth stammered, all of his confidence quickly draining away. "But I-"

He was cut off by a sound that resembled laughter, "resembled" being a stretch. It was deep and mechanical, devoid of any real emotion and echoing off of the walls of the room with a mocking tone hidden in it.

"Then the answer is so very simple. In order to kill the rogue, we must kill his host."


	15. Chapter Thirteen

Hearing those words made Mark's blood run cold. He'd been hoping that Seth would be right and that the Council would help them, but it seemed even They had come to the same conclusion that Mark and Seth had.

That Mark's death was the only way out of this.

And Mark had a feeling that They wouldn't be reluctant to become the cause of it.

"I'm aware that this is the simplest solution," Seth said, the confidence he'd carried with him when they'd entered the room now completely gone. His tone was wavering ever so slightly, and his stance seemed tense and anxious. "But surely there must be another way."

"There _would_ be another way," one of the beings said, a hint of resentment in Their words. "If you had managed to fix the problem you created. Or better yet, never have created it in the first place and done your job correctly. You dug your own grave. Or should I say, _his_ grave."

Even though the creature stayed unmoving and had no eyes to indicate who it was referring to, Mark knew for certain that Their words were directed at him. They all did.

"Please, I beg of you," Seth's tone had gone from wavering to pleading as he realized he was fighting a hopeless battle. "I do not want this man to die. There are so many who would be gravely affected by his death, four of which stand in this very room. There must be a way to-"

"Why do _you_ care whether he lives or dies?" One of them asked. Their voice wasn't supercilious or full of spite this time, just filled with genuine confusion, as if They honestly could not understand Seth's reasoning. "Why does his death and those "affected" by it mean anything to you? He is a human, nothing more, and he is only of value to Us if he is dead. The emotions of humans We do not know do not concern Us. His life is meaningless."

Hearing an extremely powerful being from another dimension say that he was better off dead and that his life was meaningless was starting to get to Mark. He knew that this whole ordeal was a product of a mistake he made, a mistake he felt guilty for, and Their words were only making him increasingly more aware from this. He could feel his guilt lapping at his mind's edge, threatening to spill over and flood his brain at any moment, ready to wash away everything and drown him.

"I've already explained my reasoning," Seth retorted. "You just cannot seem to understand it. Like I said, there are so many that would be impacted by his death, including those that stand before you. His life may not mean anything to You, but it does to so many others. So, for their sakes, and for his, please help us."

"We have already explained Our reasoning as well," a being said, resentment and frustration present in Their words once more. "They all will move on from his death, and soon enough any one who ever knew his name will also be dead, leaving no trace that he ever existed. The permanent domination of our world and our species is not worth sparing the temporary and fleeting emotions of humans!"

"For once could You show some compassion!?" Seth yelled, his anger echoing off of the walls of the enormous room. Now it was his voice that was filled with resentment. "Some empathy! Show any kind of emotion at all! I know all of You have the ability to, but You willingly choose to supress it."

"Because it is weakness."

"And that is where you are wrong! Because the heart is brave enough to make the right decisions even when the brain is not! You all pride Yourselves in Your intellect when in reality You are all a bunch of fools, because You are too rooted in ignorance to see this. Then You blame me for the rogue's bitterness and his hatred for Us, saying that it's my fault for showing him compassion, when Your lack of empathy was what drove him to become a rogue in the first place! If You had treated him with any decency from the beginning instead of turning a blind eye, then there would be no need for Us to argue over how to destroy him."

The room remained quiet for a couple of painful moments, Seth's sudden outburst stunning them all. Mark and the group had yet to see him genuinely angry, and Mark was glad they were not on the receiving end of such ire.

"Clearly, sending you to the world of the humans was a good idea," one said after the long pause. "You've always been like one of them. Pathetic, weak, and cowardly.

If you are not strong enough to do what must be done, then We will do it for you."

As if out of thin air, a ring of about thirty or so creatures like the ones the group had seen walking the street appeared in a circular formation around them. Their eyes were filled with an animalistic hunger, their expressions giving away just how eager they were to rip their prey to shreds.

"Kill him. Kill all of them."

The collection of creatures wasted no time, swiftly making their way inwards towards the trapped group of travellers as soon as one of the beings gave the order to do so. Many pulled out weapons of different kinds, unsheathing blades or pulling out guns. Some had just their bare hands, flashing their fangs or flaunting their claws, clearly proud of their built-in murder tools.

"Pull out your weapons!" Seth ordered. Mark looked over at their companion to see that he had already done exactly that, and was firing at their attackers with a large gun that he now held in his hands (though Mark had no idea where he had pulled that out from. Maybe from his bag?).

Mark and the others were happy to follow Seth's instructions, seeing as they really didn't want to die here, and dug through the bags of weaponry that Seth had given them before their departure. Mark rifled through the backpack he hadn't thought he would actually need and pulled out the first things his hand touched, which was a gun. It looked somewhat like a revolver, but its design was so odd that Mark couldn't be sure.

He only had moments to react as one of the creatures lunged at him, brandishing a long sword with a black blade that was heading straight towards the human's head. Mark realized what was happening only seconds before the being's sword nearly made impact, ducking out of the way and praying that the weird gun thing he'd pulled out was already loaded.

Steadying his shaking hands, Mark took aim at the creature that had just tried to kill him and fired a bullet straight through its head. The entity collapsed in an unmoving heap, falling to the ground and dropping its sword along with it.

Mark had never been more thankful for an interdimensional weapon.

He didn't have much time to celebrate, however, as several other creatures shrieked in outrage from behind him and made their way towards the man that had just murdered their comrade. Mark killing their brethren only seemed to make them even more bloodthirsty, the hunger in their eyes mixing with a newfound desire for vengeance.

The young man fired the alien gun again, driving bullet after bullet into the heads of the creatures that approached him, each death making the remaining ones angrier and angrier. None of them ever had the chance to act upon that anger though, as Mark would quickly end them before they had an opportunity to enact their revenge.

After killing all of the beings closest to him, Mark whirled around and aimed his gun at the first creature he saw, which happened to be one that Ethan was engaged in a sword fight with (though Mark wasn't even sure if it qualified as an actual sword fight, because Ethan was just swinging the blade around recklessly). The blue haired man was shocked when his opponent crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap, but relaxed and when he saw where Mark's gun was trained.

Mouthing a quick thank you to the other man from across the room, Ethan turned away from Mark and began wildly swinging his sword again, this time at a creature who was attempting to stab Kathryn's eyes out.

Mark turned again and began firing at any remaining creatures he saw, some already engaged in battle with his friends, some wandering around and deciding who to attack next. A few more shots and Mark was able to easily get rid of any stragglers he saw.

The fight carried on like this for only a minute or so longer, because before long their attackers all lay dead on the floor, collapsed in pools of their own blood. The group had somehow managed to take out an onslaught of about thirty demon-like creatures with no experience in interdimensional combat, and had not only survived, but killed every single one of them.

The humans all stared at each other, eyes wide with surprise. None of them had expected this to happen.

Seth started sprinting back towards the door they had entered from before anyone had a chance to comment on the impossible battle that had just taken place.

"Run!" He called, not even turning his head. "We have to get out of here! Now!"

The remaining fugitives chased after their guide, all but one of them too afraid to look back at the Council of beings that had just ordered their execution, and bolted out the door.

The one who looked back was Mark, though he wasn't entirely sure why he did it. There was no reason to. Nevertheless, his random choice allowed him to see something he wished he hadn't.

For a split second, one of the beings had a face. A face that consisted of two glowing white eyes and a glowing smile to match, something straight out of an indie horror game.

And the worst part was that it was smiling directly at _him_.

Shuddering, Mark turned around again just as the band of escapists harshly opened the door they had passed through on their way in to reveal the world outside.

Only to find that the streets were filled with even more homicidal creatures charging towards them, letting loose battle cries Mark knew would haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

Much to everyone else's disbelief, Seth started running straight towards the mob, pulling out a sword almost as big as he was from a backpack that was much too small to have been able to hold it. Marching directly into the horde, Seth began to cut the creatures down one by one, digging a path in the angry mob and leaving a trail of bloodshed and corpses behind.

"I said let's go, so get a move on! You have weapons for a reason!" He yelled, trying to get the group to follow him.

Mark tried to fire his gun again, only to be met with a pathetic clicking sound that signified that the weapon was empty.

_Damn it._

Knowing he didn't have time to dig through his bag to find ammo for this thing, and that he wouldn't be able to identify if it was the right kind or not, Mark frantically reached into the bag and pulled out whatever else was at the top.

What he found appeared to be the handle of some kind of blade, although there was no blade attached to it. There was, however, what looked like the end of a key sticking out from the bottom of it, rooted into the half-completed weapon. Unable to do anything else with it, Mark turned the key-like object and hoped for the best, which caused a blade to begin to assemble itself and extend on the other end of the handle.

The young man didn't have time to admire the magical weapon unfortunately, as his friends had already started running after Seth and their barrage of attackers was beginning to get uncomfortably close to him. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, the young man dashed after his fellow fugitives, waving his new sword around frenetically whilst screaming bloody murder.

Mark and the group shed a lot of blood that day. More than any of them wished to remember. The sword Mark was wielding slashed through creature after creature, cutting off wings and hands, stabbing through chests and heads. The sight of all the otherworldly blood make Mark severely nauseous at first, which in turn made it hard to focus, but the longer it went on the easier it got. He became desensitized to it, though he wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good thing.

From what the Council had said, this species didn't seem to care much for empathy or emotions all together. Perhaps the deaths of those they cut down in the streets and in the Hall wouldn't mean anything in this dispassionate society.

At least, that's what Mark kept telling himself. What he hoped was the truth, for the sakes of those who knew the dead well.

Countless deaths and blood stains later, Seth finally found the portal again.

The group of humans stood under the gateway, fighting off the cutthroat creatures that had followed them all the way here and looking at their guide for instruction. The portal was too high off the ground for any of them to get to, and every one of them was too busy fending off their pursuers to be able to give someone else a boost.

But their guide didn't say anything, offering no advice or direction and remaining completely focused on the creatures he was fighting. His breathing was heavy, his hair was disheveled, and a copious amount of blood stained his once pristine suit. And there was an expression on his face that none of them had seen before. It wasn't just sadness, as that was much too simple and superficial a word to capture what Seth seemed to be feeling. In fact, the being looked so crushed, defeated and... empty, that Mark wasn't sure there was even a word in any known language to describe the look on his face.

And then it hit him. The realization that members of the Council Seth had been apart of had just ordered for him to be killed, and that he had been forced to kill beings he might've once called friends in order to survive hit Mark like a punch to the gut. This guy had done all of that, just for Mark, Kathryn, Amy, Tyler and Ethan. For a bunch of humans he barely knew.

It was unbelievable.

Seth parried a strike from one of his opponents and gracefully turned around. Mark could see his mouth moving as he uttered something, but couldn't hear the words over the sound of the battle that was unfolding around him.

The young man felt a strong and invisible force lift him into the air, like an extraordinarily strong gust of wind had somehow erupted from the ground. The blast was strong enough to send him flying up to the portal so quickly that Mark didn't even have time to process what was happening as he was sent hurtling back through the portal from whence he came.

* * *

_"They've gone to the Council. Shouldn't we be worried?"_

_The question seemed ridiculous, almost annoying, really. His associate should already know the answer._

_"Not in the slightest. Even if the Council orders for both my own and Mark's execution, there's no way the old fool or any of the other humans would let it happen. They care too much."_

_He grinned as his associate stepped out of the way to reveal what he'd been working so hard on, his wondrous creation. The thing slightly resembled what it had first looked like before his associate had worked his magic, but all of them knew that this creature was not entirely the same. The original resident of the body the thing was now inhabiting had been pushed aside, shoved somewhere deep within the proper owner's slumbering psyche. In the feeble human's place was something far deadlier._

_Something far more useful._

_His associate's creation looked at the two of them with its horrifying eyes, the glowing green irises on top of the pure black creating an interesting mix of colours. It smiled deviously at them, revealing rows of sharp fangs that could easily puncture someone's skin._

_"And it can change its appearance?"_

_"Yes," his associate replied. "He can make himself look exactly like his host normally would."_

_"Excellent." He grinned back at his associate's new creation, matching the malice in the thing's smile. He had very high hopes for this new entity, and couldn't wait to see the damage it could do._

_"Let's see just how much you're capable of."_


	16. Chapter Fourteen

Mark wasn't entirely sure how the physics of what happened next were feasible, but he was very happy it happened, regardless of the how.

After being thrown through the portal and experiencing that strange electrical sensation inside of it a second time, Mark flew out the other side. If gravity had functioned normally in this situation, Mark should've just fallen straight back in again, because he'd entered at a 180-degree angle. But the laws of physics seemed to be askew in this situation. Mark was tossed out and to the right of the portal at an angle that did not correlate with the one he'd entered the gateway on. The rip in time and space had somehow redirected his trajectory to make sure he actually made it through, as if it had consciously calculated where to spit him out.

Seth's house remained exactly the same as they had left it, the only difference being a slight change in Chica's food and water supply. The dog herself was lying down a couple feet away from the portal, a bit startled by Mark's sudden and clumsy entrance, but still seeming happy to see her owner. Her tail was wagging behind her, hitting the floor with a soft thumping sound.

However happy she was, Chica still seemed reluctant to move over to Mark. Perhaps she was scared of the portal, or perhaps it was the smell of blood that soaked Mark's clothes. Blood, he realized, that could very well be his own.

It was at that moment that Mark realized he hadn't escaped the fight unscathed. As well as being dyed red, his clothes were ripped and tattered in many places, parts of them reduced to ribbons thanks to sharp claws and blades. There were countless cuts across his arms and legs, most of them quite shallow, but some were dangerously deep. A couple of bite marks could be found on his limbs, mostly on his right arm, but it didn't look like they penetrated his skin very far. He must've shaken the creatures off before their teeth could reach his bones.

Overall, the damage appeared minimal, which was good. Mark just hoped it was the same for everyone else.

The portal beside him began to glow to life again, signifying that someone else was about to come through. Unsure if whoever it was would land on top of him or not, Mark decided not to take the chance and moved out of the way as fast as he could.

Instead of just one person, a total of four people came flying through the portal. Amy, Tyler, Kathryn and Ethan all flew out of the gateway at once, each of them tossed in a separate direction. Tyler and Kathryn both came dangerously close to hitting a wall, Ethan actually did hit a wall, and Amy landed in front of Mark, all of them hitting the ground with a much higher velocity than Mark had.

Mark wasn't sure why they'd all come through the portal at once instead of one at a time, but brushed aside that thought so he could focus on making sure everyone was somewhat okay.

"Did we live?" Ethan asked from across the room. He was lying face down on the floor, recuperating after having his shoulder slammed into a wall.

"Unless the afterlife is just Seth's house, I'd say we did," Tyler responded, pulling himself up from the floor.

"Is everyone okay?" Mark asked, turning the conversation from joking to serious.

Everyone replied with some sort of half hearted yes.

Just as everyone managed to get up off the ground and assess their injuries, the portal started to glow again, this time regurgitating Seth, who managed to land gracefully on his feet.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Mark was their main target, so I wanted to get him out of there first. I was going to send all of you through one at a time, but then things got a little bit too hectic, so I had no choice but to send you all at once.

The man turned around and walked a couple steps back towards the portal, then muttered another one of his incantations. Almost immediately, the portal began to glow again, but nothing came through it. Instead, it grew smaller and smaller, growing so tiny you could barely see it before disappearing with a miniature explosion, like a tiny supernova.

"But hey, look on the bright side! We're alive!" He said, genuinely enthusiastic about it. "And that could've gone a whole lot worse."

Mark was about to ask how exactly a horde of demon creatures attempting to murder all of them could be worse, but then he remembered the weapons on the walls of the Hall, and the disturbing smile one of the Council members had given him, and decided to keep his mouth shut.

Seth started doing his thing again, running around grabbing things off of shelves and out of cupboards while muttering random nonsense. He grabbed a smaller piece of parchment, one that was the size of a normal piece of paper for a change, a pen and quill and more bottles of weird substances. He shoved everything that had been on the big wooden table in the hardwood section of the room onto the floor and placed his new assortment of items on it.

"I thankfully have a lot of healing supplies in stock, so you're all in luck. Now where is my..." He trailed off, scanning the room for something before crying out in triumph and walking over to one of his cupboards. Opening it, he rummaged around for a bit before turning around with some kind of large surgical tool that Mark had never seen before in his hand, an optimistic grin on his face.

"Does anyone have internal bleeding?"

* * *

Thankfully, all of their injuries hadn't been too serious. Some shallow cuts and bite marks, but no stab wounds or bullet holes. Considering how many creatures had held guns, it was a miracle none of them had been shot, but that was probably thanks to the fact that there were so many of them all bunched together, which must've made it difficult to aim properly. As for none of them getting stabbed, Mark wasn't really sure how that was possible. Dumb luck maybe?

The worst out of all of their injuries was a gash on Ethan's head that ran down the right side of his face, just barely missing his eye. But after some of Seth's weird and inexplicable magic, even that was fixed. Turns out that the pieces of paper Seth had gathered were very useful for healing. Seth would draw some symbols on it and add some strangely coloured chalky substance, then apply it to the area of injury, which somehow heals the wound. Kind of like a magical bandage made out of a dead tree.

Seth had also been kind enough to give them some spare clothes and allowed them to use the shower, which was, surprise surprise, in _another_  weird room. He had several closets worth of clothes sitting in an almost entirely empty upstairs, the only other thing there being a bed, a door to the bathroom, and the trapdoor that served as the only way to move between the two floors.

At this point, Seth could reveal that he had a giant labyrinth underneath his house, and none of them would be surprised.

But when Seth assembled them all again after they'd cleaned up, he revealed something much different.

"I have a confession to make," Seth said to start off the conversation. Everyone, including Chica, was gathered in the front room, sitting on all of the lavish and cushy couches and anxiously awaiting what the being had to say. "There's something you all deserve to know about Dark's origin."

Upon hearing these words, it dawned upon Mark that Seth could possibly be about to tell all of them what he'd seemed to be avoiding. The missing puzzle piece he'd been sweeping under the rug in his other explanations.

"I created Dark."

No one said anything, confused and a bit shocked at the revelation. Even Chica looked surprise, staring at Seth intently with her head tilted slightly to the side.

"Back ho-... I mean, back in my old dimension, I was in charge of creating life. The overseer of every member of our species that was created. We don't reproduce the way most of you Earthen species do, if you hadn't already guessed. There are a select few of us who are gifted with the power to create life, which is how our species continues. We can only create life once a life has already been taken, therefore we can only create new beings once another being has passed away, so our population remains stagnant. 

A very long time ago, when I was still the overseer of all new creation, there was a mistake. An accident. Something went wrong when one of the Creators was trying to make a new being. This isn't the first time this happened, and there were many mishaps before this, but it was what happened next that was the start of something bad.

If something goes wrong during the creation process, we are supposed to eliminate the subject. It is the Council's belief that there is no room for error in our society. But this time, I gave the order to let the "mistake" live. I felt sorry for it, pitied the fact that it was its fate to die.

After we kept the anomaly's survival a secret for quite some time and raised it in the lab, it finally reached maturity."

"And that anomaly is Dark," Amy said, after Seth had finished his previous statement. 

Seth gave her a sad smile. "Yes. That would be Dark.

The other members of the Council were not pleased at all. They were furious that I had broken the rules and threatened to revoke my position among Them, and ordered for the anomaly to be killed. Somehow, I managed to change Their minds. I convinced Them to let me keep my position and to let Dark live, which I later realized was a grave mistake. 

They left Dark to fend for himself, not offering any support whatsoever and giving him no place in our society. Normally, in our world, you are given a role to fulfill based on the abilities you were born with. If you can create force fields you are a Guardian, if you have telekinesis you are a Builder. Things like that. There can be a slight difference in powers amongst beings in the same role, but all powers of the same class are still extremely similar.

Dark however, didn't fall into any category. He didn't have the same powers as any other member of our kind, and couldn't fulfil the requirements for any role. His ability to manipulate and possess people was deemed useless, as well as highly dangerous. 

His abandonment by practically everyone in our world lead to him being treated very poorly. He'd be mocked and humiliated, most of the time publicly, or taken away by someone and tortured mercilessly. All because they either didn't trust him and thought he was an enemy, or because they saw him as a different species all together, one beneath them."

Images and feelings from Dark's memories started to bubble to the surface of Mark's brain, the instances of torture and agony becoming clearer in his mind. Seth's explanation of where they came from seemed to have unlocked even more of them for Mark to see, which the young man wasn't exactly happy about. To think that Dark had been put through all of that...

"I tried to help him. I tried to get him out of some of those situations or offer reassurance, but to be completely honest, I didn't do enough. I stood by and watched far too many times. I let most of what he went through happen, and didn't think twice about it. "At least he's alive," I told myself. But what a miserable life he had. It's no wonder he finally snapped.

I blame myself for what he has become. The Council was right when They said that I have caused this mess. Even after he and The Author tried to take over our world, I begged the Council to let them live. I renounced so many of my powers just so the two of them could endure whatever sentence they were given instead of facing death, so they could get a second chance at a good life afterwards. But it was a fool's errand. They already had their hearts set on revenge.

I should've killed them when I had the chance. Or better yet, I should've shown Dark more compassion from the beginning. If I'd done that, then all of you wouldn't be paying the price for my actions."

He stopped talking for a moment, looking down at the floor and refusing to meet any of their gazes. The tone of his voice while he had been talking and his body language both gave the group a look at the shame and guilt he held for what had happened to Dark.

"I'm sorry."

Even though Seth seemed ashamed and regretful of what happened, Mark wasn't mad. Something like this was beyond one person's control. Sure, he'd made some mistakes, but who hasn't? If it weren't for Mark's mistake, they wouldn't be caught up in this mess. He sympathized with Seth, in a way. They'd both done something wrong that they desperately wanted to make right.

"That explains Dark, but what about The Author? Why is he doing this?" Tyler asked.

"I'm not entirely sure. I know he most likely has several specific motives, but the only one I thing I know is that he feels sympathy for Dark. He hated the way Dark was treated, and became his only companion. I don't know if that's still where their relationship stands, but that's how it was the last time they tried this."

Mark wanted to comfort Seth, but he didn't exactly know how. He knew Seth probably wouldn't listen to any reassurance, and that anything Mark said would go in one ear and out the other, but he had to say _something_. He knew exactly how the other man felt, and he didn't want Seth to feel the same way. 

"Seth, you're not the bad guy here."

The other man finally met Mark's gaze, looking up at him with the same emptiness in his eyes that he'd had they were fighting for their lives.

"Mistakes might have been made in the past, but you've learned from them. Dark, however, hasn't learned. He doesn't want to move past this, whereas you do. You want peace, Dark wants blood. I think we all know which is the better option."

Seth gave Mark a weak smile before evading his gaze again. Mark's words seemed to have done nothing to help set his mind at ease, which saddened the other man. He really wanted to help him.

Not just that, but Mark truly believed that Seth wasn't to blame, and seeing Seth blame himself anyways was hard to watch. It was like witnessing an innocent man being condemned to death, only the man is both the judge and the convict. He seemed so fixated on the idea that he was a horrible person for the things he did ages ago, refusing to believe otherwise, when deep down, Mark knew who was really to blame for all of this.

Because as much as the others had tried to reassure him, Mark could never shake the thought that he was entirely guilty.

* * *

_ Soon. _

_ Soon everything would fall into place. _

_ They were so close. _

_ All he had to do was play his part and he'd receive what he so desperately craved.  _

_ Blood. _

_ He didn't care whose it was. Friend or foe, he would gladly tear their body to shredded meat. Because no matter where it came from, blood was still blood. _

_ The two creatures had not only given him life and a body, but a promise for blood. The only condition had been for him to play a little game for them. Play the role of the humans' friend and then use the weapon he had been given. At least, he assumed it was a weapon. They'd been vague when describing what it does. Frankly, he didn't care what it did. As long as he got what he'd been promised in the end. _

_ All that he had left to do was send the message. Then the game would start, and everything would fall into place. _

**_ Jack: Mark, I need your help. _ ** __


	17. Chapter Fifteen

** Jack: Mark, I need your help. **

The words that his phone currently depicted chilled Mark to the bone. Under different circumstances they would've been unassuming, but this wasn't a different circumstance, as much as Mark would've liked it to be. _This_ circumstance gave almost everything a darker and grimmer nature, and made it so that nothing was ever unassuming.

"We might have another problem," Mark announced to the group. Everyone's eyes, including Seth's, shifted to focus on him.

"Jack just texted me. He said he needs my help."

As if the mood of the conversation wasn't already poor enough, Mark's description of Jack's message made it even worse.

"It's probably nothing," Tyler said, though he didn't sound too sure. "Jack's all the way in Brighton, and Dark's still in your head somewhere. He can't get to him." He paused for a moment as he considered something. "He is still in your head, right?"

Mark opened his mouth to respond to the question, but then he realized he wasn't exactly sure of the answer. He'd assumed Seth's spell had sealed Dark in his head, but was that true? All Seth had told them was that the spell prevented Dark from possessing him. He never said where the being would end up or what would happen to him.

Mark looked over at Seth, shooting him a questioning look and silently asking for an answer.

"I'm not sure where Dark is," Seth said, much to the dismay of everyone in the room. "Dark can still enter and leave your mind as he pleases, he just can't actually possess you, and we still can't force him out. Has he said anything to you at all recently?"

Mark's sense of dread only increased as he realized that the answer to that question was no. Mark hadn't heard anything from Dark since yesterday, about an hour or so after Seth cast the spell. It had been the usual slew of insults, and then he'd gone silent, his unwelcomed commentary vanishing from Mark's head.

"No, not since yesterday."

"Then this message could be a very, very bad sign," Seth said, his face portraying both a sense of unease and morbid curiosity. "I presume Jack is a friend of yours?"

Mark and the others nodded. The sudden turn of events had made Mark forget that Seth didn't know all that much about their lives.

"Text him back," Ethan chimed in. "Let's figure out what's actually going on before we jump to conclusions."

Mark did as he said and replied to Jack's message.

** Mark: With what? **

** Jack: You won't believe me. **

** Mark: Try me. **

** Jack: I'm in LA, and I have absolutely no idea how I got here. **

** Mark: What? **

** Jack: Last night, someone who looked exactly like you came up to me on the street. I thought it was you, so I started talking to him and asking "you" how he got here. He kept dodging the questions, lead me down some weird backstreet, and that's all I remember. Next thing I know I'm in a hotel in LA with no memory of how I got here. **

"Shit," Mark said aloud, causing the group's expressions to fall. 

"What happened?" Seth asked. "What did he say?"

"He said someone who looked exactly like me came up to him on the street last night, lead him to some obscure place, and now he's in LA with no memory of how he got there."

The group shared Mark's previous sentiment, and many curses were spouted.

** Mark: Give me the address of the hotel. I'm coming to get you. I'll show you these messages when I get there. If I show up and refuse to show them to you, that's not me. **

** Jack: Wait what? **

** Jack: Do you know what's going on? **

** Jack: Mark, what happened to me? **

** Mark: I'll explain later. Just tell me the address. **

Jack proceeded to text Mark the address of the hotel, which turned out to only be a ten-minute drive away. The only problem was that none of them had a car anywhere nearby to use to actually get there.

"I'll take a cab," Mark said, already walking briskly towards the front door.

"What? Mark, where are you going?" Amy asked him, standing up and preparing to chase after him if necessary. 

"To get Jack."

And with that, Mark opened the door and was out it in seconds, giving the group hardly any time to process what he had just said. The moment his feet hit the pavement outside he started sprinting, hurrying out one of the narrow alleyways between two buildings as fast as he possibly could. He could hear the front door of Seth's house opening again as the others started calling after him, but he was moving too far away to be able to hear them. Their calls faded into the background the closer he got to the streets, and disappeared entirely once he made it to the sidewalk.

Slowing his pace slightly, he scanned the lively LA streets in search of a cab, hailing the nearest one down after a few moments of frantic searching. Mark told the cab driver the hotel address, trying his best not to let his worry show through his voice, and off the driver went, heading down the road much slower than Mark would've liked.

Even though he hadn't clearly heard what his friends had been shouting at him, he knew what they had said. He knew they probably yelled at him not to go, that this was a trap, that this was a really bad idea. But he hadn't listened to any of it because he already knew all of these things. He knew this could be a trap, that this was a bad idea, especially since he was going alone. He just didn't care. He wasn't going to stand by and let something awful happen to someone he cared about. Not again. He was taking matters into his own hands now, regardless of how much it cost him.

But in his anxious and troubled state, Mark didn't notice something peculiar about his driver. Something that, if he had noticed it, might've changed what happened next. 

If he hadn't been so preoccupied, he would've noticed the shady hood that the driver wore, how it covered his face almost entirely. If he'd looked even closer, he might've even been able to see that the person's face was strikingly similar to his own, every feature an exact duplicate of Mark's.

And most importantly of all, he would've noticed the pen and leather notebook that sat right there on the front seat, so unassuming, and yet so deadly.

* * *

Jack was already waiting for him by the time the cab got there.

Out the window, Mark could see Jack standing just outside of the hotel's doors, awaiting his friend's arrival with a troubled expression. He had no suitcases or luggage of any kind, which confirmed even further the story that Jack had given Mark in his texts. The Irishman scanned each and every car that drove down the road before seeing Mark's face in the window of the cab as it drove up to the building. His eyes flooded with relief, but his worried mask remained unchanging.

Telling the cab driver to wait for him for just a minute, Mark got out of the cab and quickly made his way towards Jack, relieved to see only his friend and no weird alien army along with him.

Jack pulled the dark-haired man in for a hug, which Mark returned with open arms. Normally Mark would be ecstatic to see Jack face to face, but the reason for their meeting ruined the moment. A possible forced takeover of an entire alien race and maybe even the deaths of his friends wasn't something to be happy about.

"Let's hurry," Mark said, pulling out his phone and letting Jack go through their conversation to verify Mark's identity. Once he was done, Mark and Jack both headed towards the cab at a brisk pace, neither of them wanting to be there any longer.

The two men climbed into the back of the car, and Mark told the driver to drop them off at a location that was about a block away from Seth's house. Just in case.

Both of the passengers were silent for the whole trip. This was due to the fact that Jack probably had no idea what to say, and Mark didn't know how to properly explain all of this within a ten-minute drive. Though that was probably for the best, because it was a better idea to wait until they were out of earshot of anybody. Mark no longer knew who was safe to trust, and any random passerby could be much more than they seemed. Or they'd think that Mark was nuts, which wasn't much better than the first outcome.

It wasn't long before they got out of the vehicle again, arriving at the random address Mark had given the cab driver. Thanking the driver and paying the fee, Mark got out of the car, followed closely by Jack, who still hadn't said a word.

Once the cab had disappeared down the street, Mark turned to Jack and quietly explained where they were going.

"This might seem weird, but about a block away there's a small house behind a cluster of buildings. That's where we're heading. I've got a... friend... there who can maybe help me explain things."

"So, you do know what happened?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, I do. Kind of. It's a long story."

"Then let's go," Jack said. "Because I'm still freaking the fuck out right now."

Mark nodded and lead the way back to Seth's house, nervously glancing around him occasionally, as if Dark was going to suddenly jump out at him from a trash can. His paranoia only seemed to make Jack more uneasy as well, because every time Mark turned his head Jack would tense up involuntarily. Upset that he couldn't set Jack's mind at ease, Mark quickly began to feel bad about making Jack worry. That being said, it wasn't like he was doing it for no reason. They had to be careful, and Jack had every right to be afraid.

Finally, they reached one of the alleys that connected to the paved area where Seth's house was. Mark turned right sharply and made his way in between two buildings, causing Jack to give him a confused look before following his American friend. 

Jack's confused expression became even more puzzled when he saw the actual house that they were heading towards. The look on his face was probably similar to the one Mark had when he first saw the building, his mouth slightly agape and his eyebrows knit together in befuddlement. It seemed that his Irish friend had the same opinion on the exterior design choices as everyone else.

"Who built this?!" He asked, his voice portraying the same amount of confusion that his face held.

"I don't know. It was probably Seth. He seems to like things like this."

"And I presume Seth is the friend you were talking about?"

"Yeah, that would be him."

Jack's confused expression turned away from the house and was then directed at Mark. He didn't say anything, but Mark could tell he had about a million questions that he wanted to ask.

"Trust me, the inside is even weirder," Mark said, making his way to the front door. With no other option, Jack walked after him, hesitantly moving towards the strange building.

There was no need to knock, because just as Mark raised his arm to do so Seth opened the door, startling both of the men on the other side. 

"So, you must be Jack," Seth said, extending his hand forwards. "Pleasure to meet you. I just wish it was under different circumstances."

Jack slowly extended his own hand to shake Seth's outreached one, still a small bit startled by the man's sudden appearance. 

Seth stepped aside and motioned for the two men to come inside the house. The obscene amount of plants and other odd items no longer phased Mark, and he walked right past them. Jack however, hadn't seen this before, so he made sure to look at all of it thoroughly. He took his time getting through the front room, stopping to inspect the colourful plants and ancient artifacts, which brought a smile to Seth's face. Jack was the first out of any of them to be brave enough to get near Seth's collection, and the plant-loving being seemed pleased that someone was showing interest in his things.

Though Mark would've liked to leave the two of them to start a conversation about Seth's weird stuff, they had some other things to take care of first. Mark shot Seth an apologetic glance and motioned with his head towards the back room. Seth's smile turned bittersweet when the meaning of Mark's gesture dawned upon him, and he instructed Jack to follow him to the other room.

Tyler, Amy, Ethan, Kathryn and Chica were already waiting for them in the other room, exactly as they had been when Mark had sprinted out. All of them noticeably relaxed when they saw both Mark and Jack walk into the room unharmed and alive, the stress of having to wait out their arrival no longer a massive burden. Chica came bounding up to the two of them, her tail wagging enthusiastically as she sniffed the new arrivals.

After some hellos had been exchanged, Mark decided that it was time to move on to the more serious and pressing subject at hand.

"So, I guess we have some explaining to do," Mark said, laughing nervously and not at all eager to have to explain everything that has happened for yet another time.

Jack nodded, the smile fading from his face as he prepared for what Mark was going to say.

Mark's explanation to Jack was no different than the one he had given the others, not counting the insertion of recent developments. Once again, he was forced to recount all of the things he regretted doing and all of the things he could've done better, hoping desperately that his friend wouldn't hate him for it. After all, he wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for Mark.

Seth had to chime in every now and again to add information only he could provide, and the rest of the group would contribute as well, because it was clear Mark really didn't like talking about this. Jack didn't say anything throughout their story, not asking a single question or making a single remark, and taking a long while to actually process what they were saying. It was a bit unlike him, to stay this quiet during a conversation, to not satiate any curiosity he had by asking questions, but Mark felt that his silence was understandable. There wasn't much you could say or think to ask when faced with discussions like this.

"I think that about covers it," Seth stated after Mark finished the last sentence of his explanation.

"Thank you. I just have two more questions," Jack said. "Is that okay?"

"Ask away, but I can't guarantee you an answer." Seth responded.

"Why am I here? And what happened last night?"

Seth sighed heavily. Of course, this was a question he couldn't give a precise answer to.

"You're most likely here because you're Mark's friend." A wave of guilt hit Mark's brain like a ton of falling bricks upon hearing those words. "You have connections to him, so this somehow makes you useful to whatever Dark and The Author have planned. But I don't know what happened to you last night. Dark might've manipulated you into doing something, The Author might have injected you with ink. It could be any number of things.

Jack's face paled slightly upon hearing the latter half of Seth's response, the thought of being injected with ink or tricked into making a deal with the equivalent of the devil obviously frightening him. One could only hope that, somehow, he had avoided having that happen to him, but none of them could be sure.

"I hope our explanation cleared at least some things up for you, Jack, but there isn't much more information we can offer. We also need to start focusing on what we're going to try next."

The last few words of Seth's sentence jumped out at Mark. _What they were going to do next._ Seth must have come up with another plan, one that would hopefully work this time.

"You have another plan?" Ethan questioned, picking up on the end of Seth's previous statement the same way Mark had.

"As a matter of fact, I do. It's risky, and we might not have enough time, but it's better than nothing.

Before the situation with Jack, I was planning on showing you the blueprints for a new weapon I've designed. It's a lot like the last one, but unlike its predecessor, it can temporarily destabilize the physical forms of humans."

Seth walked away from the group for a moment to fetch something off of the big wooden table across the room, bringing back a large rolled up piece of paper. Once he unfurled it across the ground in front of everyone else, it revealed a fully fleshed out design for a gun-like weapon. Certain parts of the design were circled or labeled, but none of the writing was written in English. Or maybe it was, and Seth just had really poor penmanship.

"I've modified the design a substantial amount, but it still looks somewhat like the original. This will take a while to build, and I'm going to need to run some tests on you humans to gather data, but I think we can make it work."

Seth's explanation sounded like music to Mark's ears, but his eyes had a different opinion. Seth kept fidgeting with the pockets on his suit and brushing his hair away from his face, despite the fact that his grey streaked brown locks never fell out of place. His eyes kept nervously shifting over to Mark the entire time he was talking, like he was trying to send Mark a message that he unfortunately didn't understand. All of it looked so out of character for Seth, as he had never displayed any of these mannerisms before, and for them to start appearing now and out of nowhere made no sense. They completely counteracted the peace of mind Seth's plan had brought Mark and brought back the worry that had been gnawing away at his insides since all of this had started.

"-starting now then?" Tyler asked, but Mark hadn't caught the beginning of the question. He'd been too focused on observing Seth.

"Yes. If you're all feeling up to it, that is."

Everyone in the group nodded, all of them tired, but none of them willing to sacrifice the plan's success for an hour of rest. Even Jack was on board, despite the fact that he had literally only gotten there a couple of minutes ago. The way he'd adapted to the situation was certainly remarkable, and he'd taken a lot less time to get used to it than everyone else had.

"Then let's get started."

Seth immediately started giving everyone a task, instructing them on what to do and how to do it. Within moments almost everyone had some sort of job, running around and gathering the proper materials or trying to build something. It was quite honestly impressive, the way that everyone was working so hard on a plan that had been drafted last minute to save a world that wasn't even their own. They all seemed so willing to help, which warmed Mark's heart. As much as he hated himself for causing this mess, he was glad that he had so many people who were helping to fix it, even though they'd be better off not doing so. They were risking their lives after all, and Mark really wished they didn't have to take that risk.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught Mark's attention and brought him out of his thoughts. He'd gotten so caught up in his own thinking again that he'd completely spaced out and hadn't even realized that he was the last person still standing around the blueprint. He was now the only one who hadn't been instructed on what to do by Seth, who was staring at him intently with an anxious and slightly guilty look on his face.

"Mark, could I talk to you in private for a moment?" Seth asked in a hushed tone, not wanting the others to hear.

With all of Seth's strange mannerisms from earlier and the expression on his face, Mark could tell this wasn't going to be a happy conversation. If whatever was troubling Seth was enough to make him _this_ visibly nervous, Mark was scared to hear it.

But nevertheless, he still followed Seth into the other room to hear what the other man wanted to say. He didn't have much of a choice really.

He just hoped it wouldn't end on the same note their last private conversation had.

* * *

_ They hadn't noticed. _

_ They'd all been so preoccupied, so worried, that they hadn't noticed. _

_ It was laughable really. If he was able to feel pity or remorse, then he might have felt the smallest inkling of it for these humans. Thankfully, he couldn't feel either of those useless emotions, and instead took great pleasure in the pain that they would all soon endure. _

_ But he still had to be careful for just a little while longer. If his identity was revealed too soon, then the entire plan would crumble, and he would never get his reward. He had to be discreet about the way he did this, and do things one at a time. _

_ Deceive them one at a time. _

_ Infect them one at a time. _

_ Use them one at a time. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for 100+ reads!! I'm totally floored, as I never expect my work to get much notice at all, and the fact that so many people seem to like it means the absolute world to me.


	18. Chapter Sixteen

Kathryn was growing suspicious.

Really, really suspicious.

The tasks that Seth had given the group had been keeping them busy for the whole afternoon, meaning that everyone was always busy or preoccupied with something. This seemed to prevent them from noticing the same things she unintentionally had, as well as preventing them from getting the same feeling of uneasiness as her.

The source of Kathryn's suspicion was, much to her dismay, Jack.

Nobody else seemed to question Jack's strange and sudden appearance. They all seemed perfectly okay with the fact that he'd shown up in LA out of nowhere and somehow hadn't been singled out by Dark. The first part was odd, sure, and after everything that had happened to them she could see why it would no longer seem strange. But the second part was a bit too far-fetched to be believable, even for them.

Seth himself had said that Jack most likely had a small bit of memory loss and had teleported to another continent because Dark knew that he knew Mark, and that Dark needed Jack for something. Dark had clearly done something to Jack, and it had even been pointed out _in conversation._

And somehow no one else had found that unnerving.

If the slightly frightening things that Seth had said were all that Kathryn had to go off, then she would've dismissed her suspicion a long time ago. But that wasn't the case.

Thanks to the suspicion that had been nagging at her since the beginning, Kathryn was able to notice some rather important details.

Throughout the course of the afternoon, Jack had done several things that seemed very out of character. He was a lot quieter than normal, not talking to anyone much, and when he did he did so in a stultified tone. The seemingly endless amounts of energy he normally had had disappeared for some reason, and he appeared rather bored and uninterested in everything. His sense of humour was also askew, as normally he'd be cracking a couple jokes here and there to lighten the mood, but instead he came off as robotic and solemn. 

The biggest red flag of all was probably when Jack had remained totally silent when they'd been explaining everything to him. No objections, no expressions of disbelief. He hadn't even asked many questions afterwards, blindly accepting the new situation. One could maybe chalk it up to him being in shock, but Kathryn wasn't able to just brush it off like that. All that they'd said had seemed to go in one ear and out the other, like he was a bored kid in the back of a classroom who already knew the material ten times over. Almost as if he was aware of what they were going to say long before they said it. 

Pretty much everything he did came across as so bizarre it was a wonder no one had brought it up yet.

Or maybe Kathryn was being paranoid, and that was why no one had said anything. Different people react to certain situations differently, right? Perhaps this was Jack's way of reacting to beings from other dimensions and the possibility of killing them against your will. Maybe that was why he'd been acting weird. 

But still, she wanted to see what someone else thought, just in case.

With all of the stuff that needed to be done in such a short amount of time, everyone remained constantly busy, meaning Kathryn couldn't talk to anyone alone. Bringing it up in front of the entire group was an option, but not a good one. She'd rather not draw too much attention to the issue, just in case she was only imagining things.

Eventually, one person was left without a task for a couple minutes, which was Tyler. Seth, Mark and Amy had all gone out to look for materials at some weird hobby store, and Jack and Ethan were working on something together. Tyler had finished whatever it was that Seth had assigned him earlier than expected, so he was now standing around idly and scrolling through his phone, not quite sure how to help out next.

Kathryn took this opportunity to start the conversation.

"Tyler, can I talk to you for a second?" She asked him quietly.

He looked up from his phone at her. "Yeah sure."

Kathryn glanced over nervously at Jack and Ethan, who were standing only a few feet away and could most definitely hear them.

"In private. There's something that's been bothering me."

Tyler gave her a confused and mildly worried expression before nodding and heading to the other room with her, looking back over his shoulder at Jack and Ethan, as if wondering why Kathryn didn't want them to hear their conversation.

Once Kathryn was sure they were out of earshot, she asked "Has Jack seemed a little off to you?"

Tyler stared at her for a second, the question catching him off guard. "What?"

"Do you think he's been acting strange?"

Tyler said nothing for a moment, pausing to stop and think over her question carefully. His faced subtly shifted in expression as he appeared to come to a conclusion. 

"A little, I guess. I didn't notice anything super weird, but he's been kind of quiet. Is that what you mean?"

Kathryn felt both relieved that someone else had noticed it, but also worried, because now she knew that it wasn't just in her head.

"Yeah. He's been acting really different all afternoon, and I don't trust it."

Tyler laughed, thinking her mistrust was preposterous. "Really? Sure, he's been acting a little off, but who wouldn't be? He just learned that he's at risk of demonic possession, or worse. It's a lot to process."

"But he seemed to take that news just fine when we first told him," Kathryn countered. "He just sat there silently. No disbelief, no shock. Like he already knew what we were going to say."

Tyler's joking smile from his earlier rebuttal was still on his face, but as Kathryn's words began to sink in it slowly faded away, any lightheartedness draining away from the conversation along with it. It appeared Kathryn's theory didn't seem quiet so preposterous anymore.

"Or maybe he just had nothing to say," Tyler countered, his face remaining stoic. "Maybe he _couldn't_ think of anything to say. This is a really weird situation."

Kathryn thought over what he'd countered with for a second, but it still didn't sit right with her.

"I'd like to think that, but I really don't think that's what happened. I think there's something wrong with Jack."

Tyler averted his gaze, staring off at some point in the distance as he got lost in thought. Although he'd tried to argue with her, Kathryn knew he had a feeling that she was right. This entire situation seemed so inexplicable it was downright suspicious, and Tyler could definitely sense that.

"I think you're right."

* * *

Now was his chance.

He hadn't been sure of who would be his first target, but it looked like fate had made the decision for him.

There was only one other person in the room with him. He could get this done so easily and so quickly that none of them would be able to stop him.

The only problem that could possibly arise was that they might be suspicious for awhile. Even now, one of the humans had grown wary of him, giving him hard looks from across the room and eyeing him sceptically. But he knew she wouldn't act upon that scepticism. She didn't have enough proof.

He really did have to thank her though. If she hadn't lead the other one out of the room, then he'd be stuck with a witness, which could make things messy. But instead, both her and the other guy had sauntered off, leaving him with no bystanders and the perfect opportunity.

Now was definitely his chance.

_ Deceive them one at a time. _

"Hey Ethan?" He asked, doing his best to sound exactly like his host.

"Yeah?" Ethan replied, not taking his eyes off the piece of futuristic machinery he was fiddling with in front of him.

"Could I talk to you for a second? In private?"

His words must have concerned Ethan, because he stopped working and looked the man who he though was his friend in the eye, his expression slightly worried.

"Sure. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just have something I want to get off my chest."

He walked a couple of steps over so that he was right under a long and very obvious rope that was hanging from the ceiling amongst the crystals and dream catchers. Reaching up, he pulled on the rope, which caused part of the ceiling to open up and reveal the upstairs area. A short and rather steep ladder unfolded itself so that it touched the ground as the trapdoor lowered, providing them with a way to get up.

He was about to start making his way up the ladder when he noticed Ethan staring at him in confusion.

"How did you know that was there?"

He stopped, realizing that "Jack" wouldn't have known about the trapdoor, or the second floor at all. No one had used it in front of him yet, so he shouldn't have known it even existed.

"Seth told me about it," he hastily replied. "In case I needed to use the shower or something. I hadn't tried it yet, so I wasn't even sure if that would work." He added a smile at the end to seal the deal so he wouldn't seem as suspicious. 

What he said must have eased Ethan's nerves, because the blue haired man smiled back. Now Ethan was less suspicious, so much so that he didn't ask why the other man wanted to talk to him all the way upstairs instead of the empty room they were already in and instead climbed up the ladder.

What he'd told his soon to be victim wasn't entirely a lie. Someone had told him about the upper area and how to access it, but it hadn't been Seth, and it had been for a much more important purpose than using the shower.

Of course, if Ethan knew the truth, he would never have gone upstairs.

_ Infect them one at a time. _

He waited until Ethan was well enough away from the trapdoor before turning around and closing it. If Ethan regarded the action as odd, he didn't say anything, and merely stared at the other man blankly. 

"So, what'd you bring me all the way up here for?" Ethan asked, smiling at him, as if to try and lighten what he thought would be a serious conversation.

But he didn't get a reply.

Ethan could only watch as the other man reached into his pocket and pulled out something rectangular in shape that contained a black and blue liquid of sorts.

"What's-" Ethan abruptly stopped when he saw what happened next.

"Jack" had clicked a button on the unidentifiable object, which then extended and transformed into something syringe-like.

The imposter smiled as he watched Ethan's eyes widen in fright. He hadn't believed it at the time, but what one his creators had told him about fear was true. It really was a marvelous thing.

"Jack, what are you doing?" Ethan asked, managing to keep is voice level despite the fact that he was now terrified. "What the hell are you holding?"

The other man didn't say anything.

He just laughed.

It was a hollow and mechanical sound, distorted and twisted to the point where it was definitely not the type of noise a human should be able to make, and certainly not the type of noise Jack would ever make. It was almost like it was coming from a robot or a computer, something without the proper emotions or materials needed to be able to create a human laugh. The sound resonated around the entire upstairs, bouncing off the walls and giving it an echoing effect, making it sound like there wasn't just one person laughing, but ten. Each second it grew louder and louder, growing colder and more malicious the longer it went on. Eventually it got so loud and so twisted that by the end it couldn't even be considered a laugh anymore. There was no trace of comedy in it, no sense of lighthearted humour. Just bad intentions and sadism.

And while Ethan appeared to be fearing for his life, the man across from him was enjoying every second.

"I'm not Jack."

Immediately after uttering those three words, the creature allowed his disguise to dissipate and his form to return to its natural state. He could feel his teeth sharpen into fangs, the nails on his fingers extending into claws, his skin paling, and even though he couldn't see them he knew that his eyes had turned black and green. All of it took away the enormous strain of keeping up his other form and provided him with relief, as well as leaving him feeling much more comfortable now that he no longer had to keep up the act.

Ethan's fear quickly morphed into repulsion and rage as he realized what was happening.

"Who are you?!" He spat, attempting to remain confident and defiant against the new enemy.

"I dunno," the being replied in a flat tone. His voice was the same as his laugh, distorted and mechanical. If it wasn't so twisted and warped you could almost mistake it for Jack's. "Don't have a name. Might be nice to have one though. Someone kept calling me "Antisepticeye" once, which has a nice ring to it. Maybe I'll go by that.

"That's not the really the answer I was looking for," Ethan retorted, fire in his eyes. "Good for you on having a name, but I'm going to need more than that."

Anti gave another chuckle. He was glad he'd gotten to this one first, as he was indeed entertaining. 

"Of course you do. You don't care about my name. You want to know _what_ I am. And "where's Jack?".

Ethan continued to glare at the creature and nodded, but didn't say anything in response to the being's assumption.

"I'll take that as a yes."

He took a step towards Ethan, his steps jerky and almost static like, defying the laws of both physics and nature. His figure would briefly flicker a few inches or even feet away from where he was standing before appearing back where it should be, as if his movement was causing a glitch in reality itself.

"But I'm not here to answer your questions."

Another step.

"I'm here to _ask_ you a question."

Another step.

"And act upon your answer."

Another step.

Ethan stood firmly, not backing away from the approaching entity out of fear that it would look cowardly.

"Like what?"

Anti gave him a sharp-toothed grin. "Well, we need another pawn. Dark, The Author and I, that is. And using Jack just isn't enough.

Which is where you come in. I'm gonna give you a choice, Ethan, of what you want to happen next. I want you to choose our next pawn."

The hatred in Ethan's eyes only burned stronger as he realized what that meant. The being was asking him to pick which one of his friends was going to get physically and mentally messed with next, which one was going to be used like a helpless puppet. 

"I'm not sacrificing my friends. I'd rather die." He said, meaning every single word.

Anti grinned again. He'd been expecting this.

"Alrighty. Then would you be willing to sacrifice yourself?" 

Ethan narrowed his eyes at the being warily, not sure of what the being was playing at.

"I never said you weren't included in the selection," Anti said with a smirk. "All of you are options. But fair warning, if you don't pick anyone, I'll pick for you, and I don't think you'll like my choice."

Anti noticed Ethan's hand clenching into a fist moments before it came flying towards his face, which gave him enough time to move out of the way. Though "move" might not be the correct word, as he managed to cause a glitch in reality and teleport himself away from Ethan's attack so that now he was standing behind the other man.

"Careful. This is still Jack's body, and I can make sure he feels every ounce of pain you deal out."

Startled by the creature's inexplicable movement, Ethan turned around suddenly to face him again. His hand was still curled tightly into a fist, and he still stared at Anti with a look that could kill, but he didn't thrust attack this time. He couldn't risk hurting Jack.

"So, what's it gonna be? _Who's_ it gonna be? I don't have all day you know, and if you don't decide soon then I'll decide instead."

Ethan glared at his adversary as he thought this over carefully. The creature knew that the young man was aware of what would happen if he didn't decide. Anti would decide for him and go for one of his friends instead, and he knew how much it would pain Ethan to know he allowed the entity to get to them when he could've taken their place. This hadn't been verbalized of course, and Anti knew that if he did speak his intentions aloud then it would border too close to blackmail for this to work. If it was implied however, then there was room to bend the rules a little. The Council had apparently always been flexible in that regard when it came to restrictions on powers, which was a huge mistake on Their part.

"I'll be your pawn," Ethan said, his tone flat. "But leave everyone else out of it."

"No can do on that last part."

"But I thought you said-"

"I said you could pick our _next_ pawn. Who's to say there won't be more after that?"

Anti could see Ethan growing visibly more aggravated by the second. "So, this was pointless then. You're going to go after them as well anyways, no matter what I say."

"Precisely!" Anti said mockingly.

"You little-"

"Don't waste your breath. Nothing you call me is going to save your skin."

In a flash, Anti caused reality to glitch again and teleported behind the blue haired man. Ethan didn't even have time to react before Anti plunged the syringe-like object into a vein in his victim's neck, emptying it of the substance inside and injecting the fluid into Ethan's system. The man cried out in pain and reached up to try and pull the syringe out, but his limbs went completely slack before he could actually do anything, a dark spider web of black lines spreading over his entire body and seemingly paralyzing it as it did so.

The creature could feel Ethan's aura dimming slightly as his strength drained away, the contents of the syringe taking effect. Only a few more moments and the substance would be done working whatever magic the being with the notebook had designed it to. It would most likely change something inside Ethan's anatomy and aura, though Anti wasn't entirely sure. Again, the beings that had created him hadn't been very clear. They'd just given him instructions without explaining them.

Whatever it was would surely be fun to watch during the next phase.

Ethan finally completely shut down and collapsed in a heap in front of the creature, the black lines totally covering his body now. 

It was done.

The being smiled, proud of his work. He knew that his creators would've preferred if he took a subtler approach and kept pretending to be Jack until the very end, but where was the fun in that? Taunting and terrifying Ethan had been way more fun, and a lot easier. It seemed like the objectively better option in all honesty.

They'd left these tasks up to him, so he was going to do them his way.

The _fun_ way.

_ Use them one at a time. _


	19. Nightmares

_Screaming._

_So much screaming._

_It filled every corner of Mark's mind, banging at his skull and rattling down his spine, chilling every single bone. His ears protested at having to deal with such a shrill and deafening sound, causing him great pain as his eardrums begged for it to stop. He could feel his heart wrench at the sound, every second of noise so full of despair and pain that he could almost physically feel it splitting and fragmenting. It drilled into his soul, his spirit, everything. Everything was consumed by the cacophonic melody made up of tortured screams, swallowing him whole like the jaws of some nightmarish creature from the depths of hell itself. The teeth of the beast punctured his heart, ears, and brain, the mouth of the metaphorical creature closing in and suffocating him to the point where he couldn't even breathe._

_No light._

_No talking._

_No faces._

_Nothing._

_Nothing but screaming._

_Screaming and darkness._

_Mark wanted it all to stop._

_He needed it to stop._

_For every second that the screaming went on the closer he got to being swallowed by the imaginary beast, edging further and further down its disgusting throat. And if he reached its stomach, he would dissolve into nothing, drowning in the darkness and the pain before ceasing to exist entirely._

_Stop._

_Stop._

**_Stop._ **

_And then it did._

_It finally stopped._

_It didn't fade away or fizzle out, like a scream should. All the layers of agonized shrieks cut out abruptly, there one moment and completely gone the next, as if someone had hit pause on a recording._

_Or silenced the things making the scream permanently and lethally._

_Then, finally, there was something._

_Or rather, someone._

_Sitting before Mark in the pitch-black void was the silhouette of a person, their shoulders shaking slightly as they softly sobbed, their back hunched forwards as they hugged their knees. They didn't seem to notice Mark standing not too far behind them and remained facing the other way, hiding their tear-stained face._

_The sound of the person crying pulled at Mark's heartstrings and caused him to walk towards the figure almost unwittingly, taking slow and careful steps so he wouldn't alarm the weeping stranger. But his feet made hardly any noise when hitting the invisible ground of the void anyways, so it didn't really matter how fast or how loud he walked. It made no difference in the end._

_The very muted sound that his footsteps did make allowed for Mark to become more and more aware of the stranger's crying the closer he got, the sobs growing louder and more distinct with each step he took. It became easier and easier to hear the actual tone of the person's voice as they cried, so much so that by the time he got close enough to reach out and touch the figure it occurred to him that he'd heard that voice before._

_The voice was Jack's._

_The sobs were Jack's._

_That was Jack._

_Once the realization hit Mark he became even more concerned. He reached out and put a hand on his sobbing friend's shoulder in an attempt to both comfort him and alert him of his presence._

_"Jack? Jack, it's Mark. What's wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?"_

_Jack stopped crying once Mark started speaking, but didn't answer him. He didn't even turn around._

_"Jack?"_

_Out of nowhere, the other man whipped around suddenly and violently, the motion so quick and jerky it looked like it would've given him whiplash. Mark retracted his arm in surprise, not expecting Jack to move so quickly, and once he did so he was unfortunately able to get a long good look at the face of the man he'd thought was his friend._

_The one half of his face was definitely Jack, with the green hair and the bright blue eye filled with warmth even in sadness. Tear trails ran down his cheeks from his crying moments ago, but other than that he looked the same as he always did._

_The other half of his face however, was not Jack. His hair on that side was messy and unkempt, his skin even paler than normal, and there was a bruise near his jawline. He even had a gage in that ear, which he didn't wear all that often. But the oddest feature of all was his eye. Where the white should be there was pitch black instead, the same colour as the void that surrounded them, and the only thing inside of it was a glowing green iris that was the same shade as some kind of radioactive waste. There were tear trails down this cheek too, but they were not even close to the same as the ones on the other side of his face. The tears on this side had left deep burn marks and scars, as if he'd been crying acid out of his demon eye, the path they left in their wake leaving permanent reminders._

_"Why did you do it?" He asked Mark. His voice sounded like Jack's, but altered and messed with, as if someone had layered and distorted it._

_Getting over his initial surprise, Mark composed himself enough to answer the question._

_"Do what?"_

_The black and green eye narrowed at Mark with loathing, while the normal eye stared at him with apologetic sadness._

_"Why did you turn me into this?"_

_Mark had no idea how to respond to something like that. This was the first and only time he'd ever seen Jack look like this, wasn't it? In fact, he hadn't talked to his friend in quite a while thanks to the whole fiasco with Dark that had been going on. It was difficult enough to understand the fact that Jack looked like this at all, let alone that he apparently was the one who made him like that._

_"But I didn't." Mark protested._

_"Yes, you did," Jack replied, his voice slightly unsteady, as if he was trying to mask a burning rage. "You made Dark do this to me. You let him turn me into this monster. If you'd cooperated, then I wouldn't be stuck as a mutant freak."_

_Jack's words delivered like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of Mark and any response he might've come up with along with it. He hadn't expected that._

_"You could've played along. No harm would've come to us then," Jack continued, standing up as he spoke. This made Mark notice that the disfigured side of his body was slightly fuzzy, almost like static, with the occasional glitch splitting apart the image. "You could've minded your own business and let Dark do his job, but you had to pick a fight didn't you? You just had to fuck things up even more than you had already. Now I have to live with this creature inside of me forever, because you refused to be a good pawn and forced Dark to find a new one."_

_Mark stayed silent again, not because Jack's accusations had shocked him this time, but because he knew they were true. He couldn't think of anything to counter him with._

_But what had he meant by that last part?_

_"If I'm not enough proof for you," Jack said, taking Mark's silence as denial instead of acceptance. "Why don't you ask them too?"_

_Before Mark could ask about "them," he faintly heard the sound of muted footsteps approaching him from behind._

_"Yes. Why don't you?"_

_Yet again the voice sounded unfortunately familiar, matching one he'd hear an infinite number of times before._

_It was Amy's._

_Mark spun around to face the voice's source and found Amy standing behind him. At least, he thought it was Amy. Her eyes were pitch black, her skin covered in an erratic pattern of dark lines that ran up and down her entire body and the look of hate on her face one that Mark had never seen from her before._

_"Why did you do it?" She asked, glaring at Mark with her unnatural eyes._

_"I-I don't understand," Mark stammered. "I didn't do this. I wouldn't do this."_

_Was that a lie?_

_"Why did you do it?" Someone else parroted._

_Mark turned around to face the newcomer's direction and found a demonic and monstrous version of Ethan staring at him, the same black lines on his skin and look of contempt as Amy, only his eyes were entirely a shade of glowing blue._

_Stepping out of seemingly nowhere next to him came Tyler, bearing the exact same physical characteristics as the rest of them and repeating the same phrase._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_One by one, Mark saw all of his friends and loved ones emerge from the darkness around him, each of their faces filled with pure hate and bodies demonic and unnatural. Each time they repeated the same phrase that demon-Jack had asked him, demanding the same question over and over again._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Before long there were so many of them that it became a chant, a sickening mantra said by his group of distorted loved ones._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Then they started screaming it at him, as if it were the worst insult they could possibly imagine._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Mark could pick up on other sentences being thrown in there occasionally too, though they were hard to hear over the main chant. He really wished they'd been impossible to hear instead, because he didn't want to hear them at all._

_"It's all your fault."_

_"We're going to die."_

_"You've killed us."_

_"This didn't have to be permanent."_

_"You made it permanent."_

_"How could you do this?"_

_"Now we're going to die."_

_"You're a monster."_

_Each and every word dug at Mark like a blade to the heart, ripping him apart from the inside. He could feel them quickly tearing him down with each insult they spat, causing him to crumple to the ground in defeat as he let their words pile up on top of him. Pressure kept building and building, banging at his brain and setting off alarms as he begged for it to stop, trying to keep himself from falling apart._

_But it didn't work._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?_

_Because he fell apart completely._

_Something inside of him snapped, broke and shattered all at once, and he felt all hell break loose within his own mind. Every fear, every doubt, everything he'd tried to repress coming back at him full force._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Their words put a bullet through his head and then proceeded to shoot his dead body, attempting to break what was already broken even further. Screaming and cursing, clawing and cutting. Mark knew that he was probably screaming and crying as they spoke, but he couldn't hear it. All he could hear were the words._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_He didn't want to hear it. Didn't want it. Couldn't take it._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_He wanted the screaming from earlier back again. No matter how ear-splitting and agony filled it had gotten, it was infinitely better than this._

_Because the screaming had been just that. Screaming. No importance or meaning to it. Just sound._

_But these were words. And words had meaning._

_Lots and lots of meaning._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Mark could feel himself shutting down entirely, caving in on himself as the voices broke what little sanity there was left in him and pushing him off the deep end. He couldn't take much more of it. He'd die, he was sure of it. His mind and soul and heart would die and Mark Fischbach would cease to exist, leaving only the shell of a man behind._

_An empty broken shell._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Stop._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Stop._

_"Why did you do it?"_

_Stop_

_"Whydidyoudoitwhydidyoudoitwhydidyoudoitwhydidyoudoitwhydidyoudoit?"_

**_Stop._ **

_And then, just like before, it stopped. It didn't fade out or decrescendo into silence. It just stopped._

_And there was no more meaning._

_No more people._

_No more words._

_Just silence._

_And emptiness._

_And then he heard one last voice speak, one that was dangerously close to his own._

**_"You've brought this upon yourself Mark. I don't want to have to go through the trouble of killing people if it offers no personal gain, but if you continue to conspire against me I will have no choice._ **

**_Don't let your friends get in my way._ ** **_Let me do my job, be good little puppets and play my game. Then you're free to go._**

**_Do otherwise and I'll have no choice but to eliminate those who prove to be obstacles._ **

**_And one more thing before I go. I know what you really plan to do with that gun. All of them may have bought into your lies, but I've been inside your head. I know how you think. And I know when you're hiding things._ **

**_Do everyone a favour and don't go through with it."_ **

And then, just like both times before, it stopped, and there was just silence. No diminuendo or gradual quietness. Just peaceful, blissful silence.

Right before he woke up.


	20. Chapter Seventeen

That day was probably one of the longest and simultaneously one of the shortest days of Kathryn's life.

The combination of her paranoia and the seemingly endless tasks that Seth assigned them kept her in a robotic and focused state for most of the day, which almost made it fly by. But having to keep a watchful eye on Jack and constantly rush against the clock pretty much reversed the effect and made everything move at a snail's pace. It was a paradox.

Eventually the day finally drew to a close, and they completed the body of the gun-like design that Seth had invented. It was honestly a lot smaller than Kathryn had anticipated. She'd expected it to be some giant monstrosity of a weapon, but instead it was only the size of one of those cheap water guns you could find in toy stores. In fact, it actually _looked_ like one of those cheap water guns too. Each piece was a different colour, ranging from plain black to neon green, and looked so unlike any Earthen gun that most would assume it was a toy.

After its completion, the entire group gathered around the mostly finished weapon, which was lying across the large wooden table offside the kitchen. Seth was leaning in close to it, tinkering with any piece he deemed out of place and muttering to himself while doing so, saying things that were unintelligible to the others. This habit seemed like it was an ordinary thing for Seth to do when concentrating, so by this point no one was bothered by his mumbled thoughts.

Finally satisfied, Seth took a step back to admire the odd piece of machinery that they had all created.

"Everything seems to be in order, and we've finished ahead of schedule. All that's left to do now is build the power module for it, so it has a power source obviously, and then we'll be all set."

Everyone breathed a sigh of exhausted relief, thankful that their hard work had paid off. Maybe now they'd get a chance to rest. They'd only gotten one short break each so far, and they hadn't really been all that relaxing. Especially for poor Mark, who'd tried to take a nap and then woke up screaming a few minutes later.

"There's just one more thing."

Now the group was attempting to stifle a groan, their previous relief diminished.

"We'll need to head back to my dimension to get power for the power module."

Considering what happened the last time they went to Seth's dimension, Kathryn was not at all excited to be returning there. And from the looks on everyone's faces, she could tell they felt the same way she did.

Except for Jack of course. His face remained placid and he said nothing about the situation. But she'd expected that.

"But aren't we fugitives now?" Ethan said, drawing attention to the obvious issue. "We take one step in that world and we're dead. We barely made it out last time, so our odds aren't looking great."

"Yes, we're fugitives," Seth said, the last word bringing a certain sadness to his face. "And unfortunately, there's nothing we can do about that. We're going to have to try and get in undetected."

Seth furrowed his brow, getting caught up in his own thoughts again. He drummed his fingers against the table in agitation, eyes moving slightly every couple seconds. From what they'd seen from him before, this most likely meant he was thinking over a plan of some kind. At least, that's what Kathryn guessed. Though it seemed like there was something else bothering him too, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. Then again, Seth always seemed worried about something, so maybe there wasn't anything else at all and she was just reading too much into things.

"Couldn't we find something on Earth that'll work just the same?" Tyler asked. "We found all the other parts here. Surely we can find one last part here too."

"That's sadly not the case," Seth continued, breaking out of the focused state he'd been in. "The only way we can power this weapon is with the same thing we used to power its predecessor, which is only found in certain dimensions. The Earth dimension, unfortunately, is not one of those certain dimensions, and my home dimension is the only place we currently have access to that has what we need. I'm just glad this is the only part we need from outside of Earth. Anymore than that and I don't think we'd be able to pull this off."

The way Seth put it made it sound like good news that they had to travel back to a dimension that wanted them dead, which Kathryn appreciated, but even Seth couldn't make this a positive situation.

The same thoughtful expression from before appeared on Seth's face again, only this time he directed it at Mark. The other man returned an almost identical look, their eyes briefly meeting, as if they knew something that no one else did.

"It isn't all bad news though," Seth said, managing a smile. "I'll be working on the power module by myself for a few hours, which gives you all some time to rest."

The group went from dismayed back to relieved again. It looked like they'd get a break after all.

"I'll alert you all as soon as I'm finished, we'll briefly go over the plan, and then we'll head out. Sound good?"

Everyone nodded and formed some sort of verbal agreement, except for Jack, once again. He nodded slightly, but didn't say anything, and Kathryn could swear she saw him smiling. It wasn't a kind smile either, not the friendly and cheerful grin he normally wore. There was a trace of malice in it, making it the kind of smile you'd expect from a troublemaking first grader after they'd pushed someone off a swing.

Kathryn looked over at Tyler, and it seemed he'd noticed it too. He was frowning slightly in Jack's direction, his eyes locked on the other man as he studied his every movement.

He made eye contact with Kathryn from across the table, and gestured subtly to Jack with his head. Kathryn nodded discretely in response, letting him know she'd seen exactly what he'd seen.

Everyone ambled away from the table, the conversation unanimously being adjourned, and went off to go relax and rest in whatever part of the house they waked into first. Most of the group had started new conversations, ones dealing with less serious subjects and centering more on immature jokes, leaving them all with genuine smiles on their faces.

Except for Kathryn.

Everything that had happened had made Kathryn a lot more aware of people's behaviour. Their mannerisms, their quirks, every little thing that they did. She felt like she had to at this point, otherwise something huge and life-threatening could go unnoticed. She knew most people would say she was being paranoid, that none of it was necessary, but she didn't care. In her mind, all of this was absolutely necessary, because she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong. She couldn’t relax when she was this anxious and unnerved, couldn't rest until her suspicions were either confirmed or completely denied.

Whatever was wrong with Jack, whatever seemed to be transpiring behind their backs, she was going to stop it before it stopped them.

 

* * *

For the first time in what felt like forever, Amy had a pleasant sleep.

That is, until she was woken up in the middle of the night and all hell broke loose.

It had been several hours since Seth had explained the final step in building the weapon and he still hadn't announced the completion of the power module, so Amy had bid the conscious members of the group good night and curled up in a quieter corner of the house to finally get some rest. She was actually able to get a good few hours in, despite the thought of what was to come when she woke up looming over her and slept peacefully for quite a long time.

But then, at about three in the morning, Ethan frantically shook her awake, whispering things in a panicked tone so quickly Amy couldn't understand what he was trying to tell her.

Amy sat bolt upright and tried calming her panicked friend down.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," she whispered. "What happened?"

Ethan stopped talking and paused to collect himself, the began explaining it again in a much slower tone.

"I can't find Jack."

Amy gave Ethan a puzzled look, even though she knew he couldn't see it in the darkness.

"Okay, he's probably just in the bathroom or something," she reassured him. Amy didn't quite understand why Ethan was so freaked out about this. It's not like Jack would've gone far, even if he did leave.

"He's not in there."

"Did you check?"

"Yes, and he's not there. And I also saw him walk out the front door."

Again, Amy still didn't share Ethan's concern for this situation. While Jack leaving in the middle of the night was a bit odd, she didn't really see the cause for alarm. He was bound to have a reason for leaving. Maybe Seth had asked him to get something, maybe he went out to grab food. It could be any number of things.

"But that's not the bad part," Ethan stated, sensing that Amy didn't understand what he was getting at.

In the almost pitch-black room, Amy could see Ethan pull something out of his pocket, the crinkling sound it made implying that the object was paper. He unfolded it and turned on a flashlight that he'd been holding in the other hand, which Amy hadn't noticed without proper lighting.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the sudden burst of light, but once they did, the words scrawled on the slightly crumpled paper were clear as day. The hand writing was slanted and messy, the words printed very lightly, indicating that whoever had written it had been in a hurry, and a frightened one at that.

**If I'm not back by morning, I'm probably dead.**

**-Jack**

Now Amy understood why Ethan was panicking.

"We have to find him," Ethan said, his words rushed and unsteady once more now that he no longer had to explain why.

Amy started to swing her legs off of the couch she'd been resting on, but in the time it had taken her to do so Ethan had already run over to the door with impressive speed.

"Come on! We have to find him before something happens!" He half whispered, half shouted.

"Shouldn't we tell everyone else?" Amy suggested. She understood Ethan's concern, but charging head first into this would probably get them and Jack killed. There was strength in numbers, especially when those numbers included a being from another dimension with supernatural abilities.

"There's no time," Ethan argued, glancing nervously between the door and Amy. "The longer we spend here the smaller the window to save him. He could even be dead already."

Not waiting to hear any other rational argument Amy could conjure, Ethan opened the door and bolted outside, expecting Amy to follow. She could vaguely hear the sound of his feet slapping the pavement outside, the noise echoing off of the walls of the tall buildings that surrounded them.

Knowing Ethan's brash decision had almost definitely just jeopardized his safety, Amy hurriedly stood up and began to chase after him, following her friend out the now open door and forgetting to close it behind her.

When she arrived outside however, Ethan was nowhere to be found. This struck Amy as peculiar, because the likelihood that he had somehow been fast enough to already escape her field of view was slim. And yet, looking around the small paved area that was barely lit by the light streaming out from the occasional window of a neighbouring building, she couldn't see Ethan anywhere.

"Ethan?!" She called out, hoping he hadn't moved out of earshot as well.

"I'm over here! Come on!" She heard his voice call back from one of the alleys between the buildings. Unfortunately, she still couldn't see him, but she could pinpoint the direction that she'd hear his voice come from.

Quickening her pace, Amy started running towards the alleyway in front of and just to the right of where she had been standing, hoping her ears had been correct and that Ethan would be waiting at the other side.

But by the time she got to the middle of the narrow walking space, she still couldn't see any sign of him.

Perhaps it was too dark? Or maybe she'd hear his voice coming from the wrong place?

Amy started to turn around and walk back the other way, but then she heard the voice of the person she'd been looking for call out again.

"Amy? Are you there?"

It had definitely come from the other end of the alley she was standing in, she was sure of it.

So why couldn't Amy see Ethan?

Something wasn't right.

She started walking out of the alley again, much slower and more cautiously this time, not entirely sure what waited for her on the other side. Ethan had been acting a bit weird back in the house. Despite the fact that he was quite energetic, he was never one to make sudden or brash decisions like this. Not very often, at least. His want, his _need_ , to immediately chase after Jack in the middle of the night was strange. She knew he was worried and all, but this seemed like a step farther than he normally would've taken it.

And then the final factor hit Amy when she was only a couple steps away from reaching the sidewalk, stopping her in her tracks.

Ethan had taken off down this alleyway specifically, but Jack hadn't specified where he was going in his note. All Ethan had seen was him walking out the door, and that was it.

So how had Ethan known what direction Jack had gone?

"Amy!" A different voice called out.

Turing her head back towards the house, she saw a figure with a flashlight running towards her. Amy couldn't clearly make out who it was at first, the figure being too far away and the lighting being much too dark, but the closer the person got the clearer they became. It was Kathryn.

"What are you doing?" Kathryn asked her once she finally caught up with the other woman.

"I followed Ethan out here," Amy explained. "Jack left, and Ethan started chasing after him. He wanted me to follow him."

Amy couldn't see Kathryn's expression thanks to the flashlight being pointed too far away from her face, but the silence from her after Amy told her what she was doing gave away her thoughts on the situation perfectly.

"Amy, we have to get back to the house. Now."

Kathryn's sense of urgency didn't really surprise Amy, as she had started to feel the same way. She was curious, more accurately, though she knew that curiosity couldn't lead to anywhere good.

"Why?" Amy questioned, her curiosity not preventing her from already starting to walk back towards the house.

"Just trust me, we have to leave."

Kathryn grabbed Amy's arm and started gently tugging her back out of the alley, to which Amy didn't resist. This had been a bad idea.

It was at this moment that all hell broke loose.

"And where do you think you're going?" A voice that was certainly not Kathryn's called out.

The woman leading Amy stopped, the voice shocking her. Amy stopped too, not expecting to hear anyone else out here after Ethan had disappeared.

"Come on, turn around and face me."

Kathryn slowly and hesitantly did so, Amy following her lead.

But she really wished she'd kept moving instead.

At the other end of that alley stood Ethan, but it wasn't the Ethan either of them knew. His barely illuminated silhouette stood in a weird stance a few feet away from them, his posture making him look like he was totally relaxed and yet ready to sprint at them any second. His voice had been hardly recognizable when he'd spoken to them, so messed up and all over the place that the pitch and tone of his normal speaking voice was almost entirely lost. It almost sounded like a robot, a cyborg. Something that was manufactured to resemble Ethan, but thanks to its inability to feel, couldn't mimic his voice in the same way. He sounded cold, callous and lifeless, just like Dark, but in a different way. Less sociopathic and manipulative and more impulsive and flat-out insane.

Fortunately, the distance from which they were standing away from him and the poor nighttime lighting made the sight and sound of him less disturbing. Key word being almost. Because even in the dark they could make out his piercing pure blue glowing eyes that locked onto them like lasers.

"You're not going anywhere," a different, but equally disturbing voice said from the other side of them.

Amy and Kathryn frantically turned around again, facing yet another demonic version of one of their friends. At the opposite end of the alley from Ethan stood a possessed Jack, who's skin and clothes looked like they were made out of static and who's body twitched sporadically every couple of seconds. His voice, like Ethan's, was distorted beyond belief, sounding like something straight out of a horror game. His eyes were also locked on the two frightened women, the green irises staring at them sadistically.

"Not until we're done."


	21. Chapter Eighteen

It was Amy's first instinct to run, but sadly, there were adversaries on either side of the alley. Running meant running right towards either of them, which would be suicide.

They were trapped.

"I'd really like to thank you for your concern, Kathryn," not-Jack said, ever so slowly moving towards them. "We'd only planned on getting Amy out here, but now we can kill two birds with one stone."

In the darkness Amy could just make out the glint of the creature's teeth, their sharp teeth and terrifying glory now revealed thanks to the grin on his face.

Kathryn tugged on the sleeve of Amy's shirt to get her attention. Amy didn't realize what she was trying to tell her at first, but then she noticed that Ethan was also slowly inching towards them as well, his steps as bizarre as his stance. In his hand she was able to make out an odd rectangular object that wasn't quite identifiable, the odd device scarcely bigger than his hand. She watched as Ethan pushed what Amy would assume was a button, which caused a needle to extend from the end of the unknown object in a very unsettling manner.

A scuffle on the pavement brought Amy's attention back to not-Jack again, the sound of his foot kicking some forgotten piece of trash alerting her. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, he held an object identical to the one in demon-Ethan's hand, needle and all.

"What is that?" Amy whispered to Kathryn, her words coming out harsh thanks to her fear.

"I don't know, but I really don't want to find out," Kathryn replied, eyeing their two opponents carefully.

Another scuffling sound, this time from Ethan's direction.

"Stay still and this will hurt less," both of the creatures said in unison.

And with that they lunged at Amy and Kathryn, weird rectangular weapons at the ready and poised to strike them.

Amy had already been a bit skittish thanks to her creepy surroundings and the threatening circumstance, which she was now thankful for, because it allowed her to have the proper reflexes and reaction times to dodge her attackers.

It was Ethan that came at her first, his weapon thing aimed directly at her neck and moving fast towards its target. Amy ducked in the nick of time, the needle barely missing the hairs on her head, which was much too close for comfort.

She heard demon-Ethan let out a mechanical sounding growl, most likely out of frustration, as he stumbled forward slightly. His weapon had missed its target, meaning there was nothing to stop his momentum, so he had to take a couple of steps forward to regain his balance. Amy took that opportunity to sprint in the other direction, hoping that her attacker's stumble would give her enough of a lead to escape in one piece.

What she had neglected to remember, however, was that there were _two_ opponents she and Kathryn were facing.

And she sadly didn't know of a certain teleportation ability one of them had.

Out of nowhere, demon-Jack appeared in front of her, the air around Amy suddenly becoming charged with electricity at his entrance. Amy barely had time to skid to a stop, unprepared for one of her opponents to magically appear in front of her, which knocked her off balance. This gave her new adversary a chance to grab her arm and pull her towards him, using one arm to hold her close and the other to bring the needle up to Amy's neck, where he gently pressed it against her skin.

"Move and I'll do it," he hissed.

If that thing really was a needle, then Amy had a horrible feeling that she knew what "it" was. And she definitely didn't want it to happen.

Amy could only sit helplessly as not-Jack turned around, turning her around as well, and watch as not-Ethan performed something similar with Kathryn. She attempted to run back to the house, but Ethan was able to move after her with inhuman speed. Despite the pace at which he was going, his feet made absolutely no sound as they hit the pavement, meaning Kathryn was unaware of just how close behind her pursuer was. He caught her off-guard and grabbed her arm, pulling Kathryn towards him and bringing his rectangular weapon up to her neck, putting her in an identical situation to Amy.

The two creatures began to walk forwards, which in turn forced the girls to walk forward too, marching them right back to where they started. They were now standing face to face, the expressions they wore and their body language so similar that they mirrored each other.

"So, here's how this is going to go," Amy's captor called. She could practically see the grin on his face, despite being turned away from him.

"I'm gonna give you two a choice. One of you gets to stay with us and help us out, the other gets to leave."

"You get to pick who gets to do what," not-Ethan said, building off of his accomplice's statement. "Isn't that fun?"

Amy could almost feel her blood boil in rage, angered at the fact that these beings were going to make them either sacrifice themselves or volunteer each other. It was hardly a choice really, and they knew it. They knew they'd both be willing to sacrifice themselves to save the other. It was only a matter of who did it first.

Amy opened her mouth to agree to help them, knowing Kathryn could hopefully get away if she did so.

But she wasn't fast enough.

"I'll stay," were the words Kathryn said, the words that came out quicker than the ones Amy had planned to say. "As long as you let Amy go, I'll stay."

Amy started to protest, saying over an over again that she'd stay instead, begging them to leave Kathryn alone, but it didn't do anything. They ignored her cries and forced her to watch as demon-Ethan inserted the weapon into Kathryn's neck and pushed the button on the back again, which Amy was almost certain would inject whatever was in that thing into Kathryn's bloodstream. And whatever it was couldn't be good.

Kathryn's legs gave out as she started to crumple to the ground, the contents of the syringe-device causing her consciousness to fade away. Not-Ethan caught her as she slumped forwards, grabbing her before she could hit the pavement.

"Thank you for your cooperation," demon-Jack said with a giggle.

He took the weapon away from Amy's neck and loosened his grip on her, then pushed her aside forcefully so he could step in front of her.

Overcome with rage and an absolute desire for this whole mess to be over and done with, Amy recovered quickly and decided she wasn't going to let this happen.

"Get away from her," she said. The words didn't come out as a yell or a shout, like one would expect them to. They sounded too forceful, too calm. Too threatening.

However intimidating Amy's words were, they still didn't do a dent. The creatures paid her no mind and even started walking in the other direction, heading out of the alley and towards the street.

"I said get away from her! Let her go!" Amy called after them. Though the volume of her voice had increased, it hadn't lost any of its unwavering determination or its threatening tone.

Still, the creatures ignored her, nonchalantly walking away from her with leisurely strides. Maybe it was the poor lighting, but Amy swore she could see their shoulders bouncing slightly, indicating that they were laughing at her attempts to get them to stop.

She started following them, her pace going from a walk to almost a sprint in about two seconds flat. She didn't care if this was a stupid idea, didn't care if she endangering herself by doing this., because she was _not_ going to let this happen. She'd seen too many of her friends hurt to put up with this any longer.

"If you don't put her down, I'll-"

"Amy!"

The sound of a familiar voice calling her name cut Amy's threat off, and also caused the demonized versions of Ethan and Jack to stop dead in their tracks.

Amy turned around and looked at the other end of the alley, where she saw three figures standing in the darkness. Given the voice and the number of people, Amy immediately knew it was Mark, Tyler and Seth.

"Amy!" The voice called out again, which Amy knew belonged to Mark. "What the hell happened?"

Amy stood frozen there for a second, not sure what her next move would be. She could try and use this opportunity to catch up with the demonized Ethan and Jack, but that was risky. She could also try and briefly explain what had happened to the group of newcomers, but that would waste time she really didn't have. Neither were optimal courses of action.

Luckily, she didn't have to decide.

Unluckily, it was her possessed friends that decided for her.

The two of them didn't even have to turn around. All not-Jack had to do was glitch through reality and suddenly they were standing a foot away from Amy, an unconscious Kathryn still in Ethan's arms.

"You're tenacious, I'll give you that," possessed Jack said, regarding Amy's efforts. "But that tenacity isn't the same as strength."

"Jack?" Mark and Tyler said in unison, the voice of their possessed friend sounding enough like the real thing that it gave away his identity. Or at least, the identity of who he had been posing as.

"Wrong. But I really would've thought you'd guess that by my appearance."

He took a step or two forward, which brought him slightly closer to Amy, much to her discomfort, and allowed the static that his body seemed to be made of to glow with an unnatural green-tinted light. This enabled those at the end of the alley to actually be able to see him.

"The name's Antisepticeye," the creature said, following it with a mocking bow. "Though you can call me Anti."

Amy could sense that Mark and the others weren't even shocked by news like that at this point. Anger was a more probable emotion, just like the anger that had overcome her moments ago.

"What, don't you all want to say something to me? No insults? No questions?"

He didn't get a reply.

"You're all boring," Anti said with a huff.

Nobody really knew how to respond to that. Not because they were offended by a demon-like creature calling them boring, but because it was the last thing they expected to hear. All of them had been waiting for Anti to run at them with a weapon in his hand while laughing psychotically, not strike up a conversation.

None of them ever did get a chance to reply, because a high-pitched whirring noise began to fill the air. The noise mimicked the sound of a computer starting up, which caused everyone except for Anti to look around in confusion. The creature in question was staring at his accomplice thoughtfully, as if he were listening to a conversation only they could hear, which made Amy realize that the whirring noise _was_ a conversation only they could hear. Demon-Ethan was communicating to Anti through some weird technological language.

Everyone watched in confusion as Anti nodded at his partner in crime, confirming whatever it was that he'd said.

"Well, you're all no fun, and we've got places to be and things to prepare. We've wasted enough time on you already," Anti said in an annoyed tone, as if he was actually disappointed in the lack of physical conflict.

Demon-Ethan dropped Kathryn to the ground. Not forcefully, but not as gently as Amy and the others would've liked. She was landing on pavement after all.

The two creatures turned the other way, shunning everyone else and disregarding the weird conversation they'd just had, and strut off in the other direction. All was eerily quiet for a moment, save for the sound of the two beings' footstep, until Anti and possessed Ethan's bodies started to become more and more static-like and the silence was replaced with a mechanical hissing sound. Before long, their figures were so blurry and disrupted you couldn't even make out their silhouettes, and the static hissing sound grew so loud Amy had to cover her ears in an attempt to quiet it.

Then it stopped.

And they were gone.

Leaving the group alone and dumbfounded in the alley, wondering what the hell just happened.

Almost immediately after the creatures disappeared, Seth started walking briskly towards Kathryn, who still hadn't moved, bringing the group's attention to the more pressing matter at hand. He was followed closely by Mark, Tyler and Amy, the former two desperately wanting to know what happened to her.

"Amy, I'm going to need you to give me a synopsis of what happened," Seth briefed, reaching down to check Kathryn's pulse.

"Ethan woke me up and told me that Jack ran off somewhere," Amy explained, not missing a beat and crouching down beside him. "He started talking about how we needed to find him, didn't listen to reason and bolted out the door. I followed him out here, and apparently Kathryn did too, because she caught up with me and told me to come back to the house. I didn't understand why at first, until Ja-er, Anti and Ethan showed up out of nowhere. Although, I guess that wasn't really Ethan.

Next thing I know they've got these weird needle things held up to our necks, and want us to choose who leaves and who gets injected with whatever was in those devices."

Seth let out a sigh in a manner Amy had never really seen him do something in. He sounded nervous, scared even, unusual for someone with a typically calm demeanor. The only other time he'd gotten like this was when they tried to converse with the Council, and considering how well that went...

"No matter. This was recent, we can still fix it," Seth said reassuringly, though he said it in a way that made it sound like he was mostly trying to reassure himself. "We still have a chance to stop the ink before it spreads completely. If we cast the spell now, the ink won't be able to take full effect, and we won't have to waste time waiting for the seal to set."

Seth sat there blankly for a few moments, staring off into space and muttering to himself in a quick and hushed tone. He was thinking. Hopefully. That or he'd lost it completely.

"Let's get her back to the house," he said after finally snapping out of it. "Quickly."

The group rushed back to Seth's place, the owner of the building moving surprisingly fast given that he was carrying a human being in his arms. Though his brisk pace was understandable, as none of them wanting to dawdle outside any longer. Time was of the essence here, and they weren't going to let what happened to Ethan, Tyler, Jack and Mark happen to anyone else.

"Make a space on the carpet," Seth instructed as he and the humans rushed into the house, not wasting any time on closing the door. "Get a piece of parchment down, you know the drill."

They did, which was fortunate for Kathryn, but a bit sad, because it meant they'd become accustomed to freaky demon-creature banishing rituals.

Seth sped around the house in a frantic storm, pulling things off shelves recklessly and tossing them aside if they weren't what he was looking for, spouting more curse words during that panicked search than Amy had heard him say throughout their entire stay with him so far. He had been able to remain somewhat calm anytime a crisis arose in the past, able to think and act rationally. The being always seemed to know what to do before, but this time was different. He wasn't calm this time, which meant something was incredibly wrong.

"Is the paper ready?" He called from the other part of the house. "And the quill and ink?"

Amy, Tyler and Mark scanned the object they'd just set up, all nodding to themselves in satisfaction.

"Yeah, we're ready," Mark called back.

Seth came running into the room again, making it to the carpeted part so fast Amy could swear he didn't even blink. Quickly but carefully, Seth set the unconscious Kathryn down on the large piece of paper the group had gotten.

Now that there was actual light and Seth was no longer running around with her at Mach speed, Amy was able to actually get a look at the physical effects of what possessed-Ethan had done to Kathryn. As she'd expected, there were dark lines running up and down Kathryn's body, revealing the black ink coursing through her veins. Her skin had paled, a black mark in the shape of an X had appeared on her neck, her breathing was shallow and quick. She showed all the same symptoms Mark and Tyler had almost two days ago.

The lines on Kathryn, however, hadn't totally covered her body yet. They were moving sluggishly, definitely not as fast as the ones that had covered Mark and Tyler. Maybe it was because the ink had only just been mixed into her bloodstream, which was what Seth had hypothesised.

After rushing over to a shelf one last time to grab the final ingredient for the spell, which was whatever that blue and chalky substance was, Seth ran back over and started the process. He began by drawing the miscellany of symbols around Kathryn in the same manner he had for Tyler and Mark, and although Amy knew he had to be precise when drawing them, it was agonizing him work so slowly. Each hieroglyph was brought about into existence so gradually and carefully it was a wonder the ink hadn't spread throughout Kathryn's entire anatomy yet.

Just like before, there was an outer ring of symbols with five other connected lines of similar glyphs, one for each of Kathryn's limbs. The paper became slowly decorated with an arrangement of drawings that held a significance Amy and the others could never fully understand, no two of them the same, and the pattern they were drawn in completely different then it had been for the other two subjects of this ritual.

Seth then started to chant, presumably the same one he'd said last time, but he was speaking so quietly that Amy wasn't sure. She was sure, however, that he was muttering a lot faster than he had last time, giving her the feeling that even if he did speak loud enough for her to hear, she still wouldn't be able to tell. Even if it was different, the symbols still began to glow, which meant it was working, and that was all that Amy cared about right now.

Finally, the time came for the chalk-like substance. In the same way as before, Seth smudged the blue powder over the black X until the brighter and cooler colour completely overtook the dark hue. It only took a few moments before that too started glowing, the spell Seth was uttering working fast and effectively. Blinding red light filled the room, interrupted only by the shape of a glowing blue X, blinding everyone and forcing them to squint their eyes and look away.

Then, almost as quickly as it begun, it was over.

Seth let out a small laugh in relief. "That should've done it. Any moment now the lines will disappear, and so will the mark on her neck. The ink should now be inactive and useless in her blood."

So, the group waited with baited breath for the lines to stop spreading and fade away, watching the mark on her neck and expecting it to disappear. They'd have Kathryn back any second now. She would wake up, they could figure out a plan and put a stop to this once and for all. Everything was going to be okay.

But the lines never disappeared.

They only grew darker and spread further and further, traveling like Seth hadn't even performed the ritual at all. The symbols and the chant didn't seem to have done anything at all, not even slowing down the process, let alone stopping it.

Amy didn't understand. This worked perfectly last time, and that was when Tyler and Mark had been infected long beforehand. Seth had said that this would be easier because it was an early case, meaning this should've gone even better.

So why wasn't this working?

Seth furrowed his brow. "I... don't understand. She should be awake by now. The lines should be gone."

Amy glanced in confusion at Mark and Tyler, who could only look back at her with mirrored expressions. None of the had any answers. Not even Seth.

Moving forward slightly, Seth leaned over and dabbed at the now blue X on Kathryn's neck. From what Amy had seen last time, she expected the X to stay exactly the same, the blue now apart of Kathryn's skin. But it wasn't like that. Seth's finger wiped the blue chalk clean off of her neck, revealing the blackness underneath, which had grown even darker and looked even more foreboding.

"I thought you said we could fix this!" Tyler blurted out in an accusatory tone. He most likely wasn't actually mad and was probably concerned instead, but the tone in his voice made it seem otherwise.

"We can!" Seth defended. "I think... I don't know. This isn't how it was supposed to happen."

The man leaned over again to try and check Kathryn's pulse again, the failure of the spell making all of them wonder if Kathryn was even alive after all this, when Kathryn suddenly shot bolt upright. Seth reeled backwards, not expecting Kathryn to move that soon and that fast and taken aback by the improbable action.

She slowly turned her head to face the rest of the group.

And revealed her glowing blue eyes.

* * *

_Subterfuge._

_Noun._

_Deceit used in order to achieve one's goal._

_Synonyms: Deception, fraud, duplicity, bluff_

_Example: His threat involving the syringes was nothing but subterfuge._

_But you knew that already,_   


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	22. Chapter Nineteen

For a moment there was silence. No one spoke, no one moved. Mark could've sworn nobody was even breathing during those few seconds, because he certainly wasn't. Everybody remained completely transfixed by Kathryn's unnatural glowing blue eyes, unsure of what to do or what would happen next.

"What the fuck..." Tyler muttered, breaking the silence and becoming the first one of them to say anything.

Tyler speaking must have grabbed Kathryn's attention, as she swiveled her head slightly to the right so that she was now facing him. Her robotic blue eyes locked onto him, making Tyler shift uncomfortably in place.

Everybody tensed at Kathryn's movement, ready for her to make a move any second now. She had glowing blue eyes, after all. This couldn't possibly be their Kathryn, so who knows what she planned to do to them.

"What's she doing?" Mark asked quietly, worried any loud noise would cause Kathryn to attack.

"I don't know," Seth whispered back. "This is new to me. I've never seen a subject with blue eyes before today."

It was only then that Mark made the connection between Ethan's appearance and Kathryn's. Both of them had been covered in black lines with an X shaped mark on their necks, just like Tyler and him. Except Tyler's, and presumably Mark's (he couldn't be sure, seeing as he couldn't look at his own eyes without a mirror) had been black. Ethan's and Kathryn's were blue. And Jack's had been unlike anyone else's so far, with a glowing green iris on a black sclera.

Their appearances were changing. _Evolving._

Which meant there had been a change in their adversaries' plan.

And that meant they might not have as much time as they thought they did.

Suddenly, Tyler cried out in pain, breaking the silent standoff between Kathryn and him. In seconds he was on the ground, clutching at his head and murmuring incoherently under his breath in between shrieks of pain.

Immediately the group rushed to his side, gently patting his shoulder and asking what was wrong. Tyler could only scream louder in response, the pain being too much for him to even put the problem into words.

"What's wrong with him?" Amy asked, having to speak quite loudly to be heard over Tyler's screams.

"I don't know!" Seth cried. 

"What happened?" Mark asked.

"I don't know!" Seth repeated, slightly harsher this time. He ran his fingers through his hair and pulled on it, visibly stressed by both the situation at hand and the fact that for once he didn't know what was going on.

"Well do you have any guesses? We need to help him!" Mark snapped. His words came out harsher than he intended them to, his worry for Tyler and fright from the sudden and dramatic turn of events accidentally filtering into the tone of his voice.

"No!" Seth cried dejectedly. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears, and yet also ready to punch a wall at any second. "I don't have any idea what's happening! I've never seen something like this happen before! This wasn't supposed to happen!"

Seth pulled away from Tyler slightly, staring off into space again and muttering to himself.

"I-I... I think... I don't..." he stammered.

Tyler's cries grew even louder as a revolting mixture of blood and ink began to flow from his tightly shut eyes, the dark and viscous liquids leaving sticky trails behind with each teardrop that fell. Mark felt his heart nearly shatter at the sight of it. Having to watch his friend suffer like this could only be described as devastating, and even then, Mark felt that wasn't a strong enough word.

The horrifying mixture of substances pouring form Tyler's eyes must have given Seth an epiphany, because he stopped muttering and his face became eerily calm once he saw it.

"Kathryn..." he said.

Amy and Mark glanced at each other with concern and confusion.

"What?" Amy questioned.

"Kathryn," Seth repeated, turning around to face the woman who's name he'd just said. Mark and Amy did the same, reluctant to move their attention away from Tyler, but wanting to know what Seth was talking about.

They ended up being very glad they turned around.

Because Kathryn was standing behind them, holding a knife.

"Don't move," Seth whispered to Mark and Amy. Considering Kathryn was both possessed and armed, and they had no idea what might set her off, they were happy to oblige.

"I have a theory. Mark, I need you to check Tyler's neck, but do it very slowly.

Mark did as he said and slowly turned back to his incapacitated friend, who's cries had grown slightly softer. Reaching out his hand as carefully and smoothly as possible, he brushed aside the collar of Tyler's shirt and checked his neck.

Mark nearly pulled his arm back in shock at what he saw. The X shaped mark on his neck, the one that had been turned blue two days ago, was now rapidly turning back to black, the inky colour overtaking the lighter one at an alarming rate. The absence of colour had started at the center of the X and was branching outwards towards the edges of the four corners, and Mark had a feeling it would only keep spreading throughout the rest of his skin once it overtook the edges.

"The mark on his neck is turning back to black."

"What?!" Amy whispered, though it came out as more of a quiet shout.

"The blue is fading away. It's not completely gone yet, but it's getting there."

Unlike Amy, Seth didn't seem surprised by this news. 

"So, I was right," he mused. "I don't know how, but Kathryn is reactivating the ink in Tyler's bloodstream and breaking the seal. Something in the ink they injected her with has the ability to react with ink in other subjects' systems, as well as an immunity to my formulized seal."

"Can you fix it?" Amy asked, keeping her eyes on Kathryn, who remained completely still across from them.

"If I had enough time, then maybe. Unfortunately, time is something we don't have right now. If she's going for Tyler now, that means she'll be going for Mark next, and before long it will be a three on two fight. On top of that, we only have a few more hours until Dark can possess Mark again. We were supposed to have another few hours until The Author could work his magic, but..." Seth trailed off.

It appeared Dark and The Author had found a way to bend the rules.

So, they _definitely_ didn't have as much time as they thought they did.

"What do we do?" Mark whispered.

"We're going to need to get you both out of here," Seth replied. "Optimally, we would be able to get Tyler out too, but with the state he's in I don't know how possible that is."

Mark took a moment to glance at his agony-stricken friend once more, forcing himself to actually take in his appearance fully this time instead of turning away. His face was stained with black and red marks from the unnatural tears that were still flowing from his eyes, painting his face with the colours of the causes of his pain. His hands were trembling and twitching in ways no human body part ever should, and the skin that covered them paler than even someone with the fairest of pigments. It didn't help that those damn black lines were making their way down his arms and up his face now, reaching up and down his body like the spindly legs of a spider, slowly ensnaring him in a web of inky metaphorical puppet strings.

And his screams. They were no longer screams. Just sobs. The kind of sobs that pierced your heart harder and faster than any bullet or blade, the kind that made tears well up in your eyes just _hearing_ them from someone else. The kind that were so full of pain and anguish that you could go through your life thinking it was physically impossible for a human being to make such a sound, until the day you have the unfortunate experience of hearing it.

Mark had made up his mind.

He was not leaving Tyler. Not here, and not like this.

"We're not leaving Tyler," Mark stated firmly, meaning it with every fibre of his being.

Seth's face remained unchanging. It seemed he'd been expecting that answer. Amy nodded in agreement, taking the same stance as Mark in this dilemma.

"Alright, I'm going to rush at Kathryn and cause a distraction," Seth said, immediately jumping into forming a plan of attack. "You two will carry Tyler to the other room and barricade yourselves in. I'll knock Kathryn out, inflicting as little damage as possible, and make a portal back to my dimension. Then I'll call you when it's safe to come back in here. Any questions?"

Mark and Amy shook their heads in sync, both of them eager to get moving and to get Tyler as far away from robo-Kathryn as possible.

"Three... two... one!"

Mark and Amy took off as soon as Seth got to one, beginning their escape before he'd even finished the number. As he'd said he would do, Seth rushed at Kathryn, using only his fists to defend himself. She'd been expecting this, and was fully prepared for Seth's half-hearted at an attack. Kathryn began swinging her knife at him at once, slashing and stabbing in Seth's direction in hopes of hitting him. Her opponent was fast enough to dodge, thankfully, but for how long Mark didn't know. Their possessed friend was attacking with inhuman speed and strength, meaning eventually she'd land a hit.

Amy and Mark were able to make it to the other room before Kathryn noticed, her attention fully focused on Seth, giving them just enough time to set Tyler down on one of the many ornate pieces of furniture and shove a couch in the way of the door frame before she finally noticed they were gone. All that could be heard from the other room were the booming stomps and footsteps and grunts of pain and effort as Seth presumably tried to stop Kathryn from chasing after the three humans.

Neither Amy nor Mark said anything to one another for the first couple of moments in that room, too afraid that Kathryn would burst in any second and remaining completely devoted to watching the door frame. After awhile, however, it became clear that Kathryn wasn't going to be able to enter any time soon, and that Seth was successful in fending her off.

So they were left alone, the only thing preventing that heavy silence from setting in again being the fight taking place in the room next door and the possibility of conversation.

"They left her with us on purpose," Amy stated out of nowhere.

"What?" Mark questioned, confused as to who exactly she was referring to.

"Kathryn. They planned to take her with them but they left her here instead. That way she could get to both you and Tyler."

In the panic of trying to save Kathryn, the point Amy brought up hadn't even occurred to Mark. He hadn't stopped to consider that maybe there was a reason for Anti and not-Ethan's indiscernible conversation and their willingness to leave Kathryn here. To be perfectly fair, he didn't think anyone else noticed at that time either, given how frantic they all were.

"I think you're right," Mark finally said back.

There was a long gap in the conversation that occurred then, the kind that was so painfully uncomfortable you're not sure if it lasted for seconds or hours. Mark was completely focused on keeping an eye on the entryway, but Amy seemed distracted by something else. She was staring at the floor with a look of solemnity and reluctance, like she was about to attempt to tell a little kid their pet goldfish had died, which worried Mark. There was clearly something that she wanted to say, but what it could be Mark had no idea. 

_ Did she know? _

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Amy asked, referring to Seth.

Mark took a couple of seconds to process the question, thankful that it wasn't the type of question he'd been expecting. This conversation wasn't heading in the direction he'd thought it was.

_ She still doesn't know. Hopefully. _

"I don't know," he said after a few moments. He honestly couldn't give that question a proper answer at the moment, seeing as so much about their situation was uncertain right now. No one was sure who would make it out of this okay. Hell, no one was sure which one of them could be trusted anymore.

Amy nodded grimly. It seemed she thought the same thing.

"And what about Tyler? And Kathryn, Jack and Ethan?" She asked, changing the subject slightly.

Again, Mark wanted more than anything to believe that their friends would be okay, but he couldn't. Uncertainty prevented him from giving a definite answer.

"I don't know," Mark repeated, knowing he sounded like a broken record but unable to do anything about it. 

Amy nodded grimly once again, this time thinking over her next question carefully as she knit her brow in deep thought. There was still something bothering her, the concern and solemnity on her face from before still present, meaning she must have been avoiding whatever was bothering her. Maybe this conversation might go in _that_ direction after all...

_ Did she know after all? How? _

"Are you-" she began, but didn't finish. Mark cut her off by shushing her before she could complete her thought.

"Do you hear that?" He whispered, glancing around the room nervously.

Amy continued to stare at him with concern.

"What am I supposed to hear? It's completely silent..." She trailed off at that last part, her expression falling as she realized what her observation meant.

There was no sound. No crashes or thuds or groans. Just silence.

The fight had stopped.

But Seth hadn't called them.

* * *

_ What you don't know could kill you _

_ Or worse _

_ Those you care about _


	23. Chapter Twenty

_Vengeance is a powerful thing._

_It drives people to do horrible deeds, but it enables them to defy the impossible._

_In fact, it can even allow someone to defy the supernatural._

_Like, for example, breaking a spell that was meant to keep them out._

* * *

They only had one second.

One second between their realization and when Kathryn kicked the couch with superhuman strength. One second to comprehend what happened. One second to think of a way out.

And that one second wasn't nearly enough.

Kathryn somehow managed to kick the couch and send it flying towards the wall opposite of the door frame, where its momentum was stopped by the barrier of the room, hitting it with a heavy thud and leaving behind a dent in its place of impact.

The arrival of the flying couch was quickly followed by a blank-faced Kathryn, who didn't seem phased by the fact that she'd just launched a piece of furniture across a room. She walked in, her steps completely sure, her posture robotically stiff, and locked her blue eyes onto Amy and Mark before they could even react to what just transpired.

Amy could hear Mark curse over and over again under his breath, the slew of swears so fast and colourful she couldn't begin to keep track of them all. But she didn't have to be able to pick out each and every one to know that she wholeheartedly agreed with his sentiment.

"Well this is just great..." Amy hissed sarcastically. Mark stopped cursing and laughed nervously in response, just as fed up with all of this demon bullshit as she was.

"Now what do we do?" He whispered, careful not to make any sudden moves under Kathryn's watchful eye. But his attempt at being quiet was unfortunately still too loud, as Kathryn's robotic blue eyes began to focus primarily on him after he spoke. It seemed she'd finally found her next target.

"Shit..." Mark muttered.

Amy started looking around the room for ways to either defend themselves or escape, knowing she had very little time before Mark would fade away too. Seth had an abundance of weapons, which was fortunate, but they were all tucked away in cabinets that had very apparent and ornate locks on their doors. She could try to break the glass, but she wasn't sure if they had the time for that, plus she could cut herself.

There were plenty of things to hide behind or in, but hiding wouldn't do them much good now. Kathryn had already seen them, and there was nowhere in this room they could go where her eyes couldn't follow. Amy wished they'd thought to hide as soon as they'd brought Tyler in here, before Kathryn found them, because that would've bought them some time.

Their only valid option was the front door, which was just a few feet away from them beside the broken couch, but Kathryn was monitoring them from directly across from it. Going for the door meant there was a very high chance she would catch them, but it seemed like their only option.

"We can make a break for the door, but we've got to do it quickly," she said to Mark, who had also been scanning the room and weighing their options.

Mark thought over Amy's suggestion for a moment before bringing up a small problem. "What about Tyler?"

Amy glanced back at their unconscious friend, and sure enough he was still in no position to run, let alone move on his own. If they wanted to get Tyler out of here, they'd have to carry him all the way to the door, which meant they were definitely going to get caught.

"We won't make it if we do," Amy countered regretfully, absolutely not wanting to leave Tyler behind but knowing that it would be impossible for all three of them to escape.

"We won't make it anyways," Mark shot back. "You know as well as I do Kathryn can run a hundred times faster than we can now, and she's closer to the door than we are.

With increasing dread Amy realized he was right. Their position in the room and Kathryn's many superhuman advantages combined meant there was no way they could get to the door in time, even without having to carry Tyler. The thought of escaping through it had been a hopeful but impossible idea.

"You want to run anyways?" Amy asked Mark, though she already had a guess as to what his answer would be.

"It's better than doing nothing," he replied, and Amy knew he was right.

The two trapped humans slowly draped Tyler's arms over their shoulders, shifting their positions so that they were ready to sprint at any moment.

"3..." Amy whispered.

"2..." Mark continued.

"One," they said in unison as they began their doomed escape attempt. They both made it to their feet smoothly and fairly easily, despite the fact that they were carrying the weight of a third and immobile person, and steadily made their way towards the door.

Only to be stopped by two hands grabbing both of them by the throat.

Amy stopped moving at once, the sudden crushing force of the person's hand almost completely depriving her of air. She clawed at the hand and squirmed desperately, hoping that maybe she could escape, but her attempts were futile. Their captor's vice-like grip was superhuman.

_Wait._

_Superhuman._

It suddenly dawned on Amy that it hadn't been Mark Kathryn had been focusing on.

It had been Tyler.

Amy didn't have much time to process this information however, as seconds later she was thrown violently across the room and towards the wall opposite from the front door. A strong shot of pain jolted through her body, the muscles and tendons she was made of not taking kindly to being catapulted across a room, as Amy felt herself fly through the air and crash into a piece of furniture. The velocity at which she was traveling was enough to make the recipient of her fall tip over, leaving Amy lying on the ground on top of a knocked-over couch, eyes tightly shut and body brimming with pain.

"It's not worth it," a voice said, one Amy could barely focus on through her pain. Was that Kathryn speaking?

"You were all fated to be pawns from the beginning. Your resistance is what made things messy."

Amy struggled to open her eyes, the room around her spinning as soon as she did so. The young woman forced herself to concentrate and bring the room back into focus, knowing she had to get out of here, and could only do so when she came to her senses.

After slowly sitting up, Amy peaked over the couch that she rammed into, getting a proper view of the conversation she'd overheard.

In the exact same place as Mark and Amy had been caught stood a conscious Tyler, though he sadly wasn't in a better state than he'd been in while unconscious. The black lines had finished their journey, the colour of the ink in his veins bleeding through to his skin like a tattoo. The side of him that was facing Amy was the side with the X mark on it, the blue entirely gone from his neck, as if Seth had never placed a seal there at all. And his eyes, from what Amy could see, were completely black.

The next person she noticed was Mark, who was fortunate enough to not have been launched across the room like Amy. But he was unfortunate enough to have been brought down to his knees, Tyler's hand still around his throat with a slightly loosened grip.

"You've brought this on them," robo-Kathryn said to Mark, who refused to meet her gaze. She took a couple steps away from the doorframe to get closer to the man she was addressing. "So, if you really want to be a hero, cease your resistance."

Kathryn fell silent, her glowing blue eyes still locked on Mark. Amy knew it wouldn't be long before Mark would go through the same process Tyler did, but she wasn't able to move to go and stop it. The young woman was still too dizzy to stand, and every fibre of her being was screaming out from the pain of being tossed around like a ragdoll. Plus, Amy knew there was no way she could get Mark out of there. Both Tyler and Kathryn weren't exactly themselves, and the two were watching their captive keenly.

As expected, Mark suddenly cried out and sharply raised his hands up to his head. The man scratched and clawed at Tyler's hand and arm while squirming in pain, frantically trying to escape his captor's clutches, but to no avail. Tyler brought his other hand forwards and pinned Mark's right arm behind his back, giving him even less room to move and bringing about even more pain.

It occurred to Amy that she had two choices in this scenario: fight or flight.

If she fought, she'd be captured or killed. That much was certain. There was absolutely no way she could take down Tyler and Kathryn singlehandedly without some kind of weapon. And even if she did have a weapon, would she really be willing to use it? As different as her friends looked and acted right now, they were still in there somewhere. Amy didn't want to hurt them.

But if Amy got the hell out of there, even if that meant just escaping to the other room, she could find Seth and the weapon they'd been building, get the power source from the freaky demon-dimension and end this once and for all.

Slowly, as to not make her dizziness or overall pain worse, Amy ducked down again and started crawling across the room, making her way towards the doorframe that led to the other room. She tried her best to remain quiet to protect her position and plan, but Mark's shrieks of pain were making it hard to do so. Every time his cries got louder or more agony-filled Amy flinched and stopped in her tracks, her heart screaming at her to go help him but her brain telling her to keep moving.

And although it was difficult to do, Amy kept moving.

Suddenly, Mark's indistinguishable cries of anguish morphed into actual recognizable words.

"Get out of my head!" He screamed at no one in particular, though one could assume he was talking to Kathryn.

Or was he?

"Stop resisting!" A new voice cried. But really, it wasn't entirely new. It sounded like Mark's, but deeper and colder, empty of any emotion other than anger.

It was Dark's.

Amy took the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the situation again, saddened and infuriated by what she saw.

Everything was close to how it had been a minute ago. The only real change was in Mark. At the angle from which she was now resting, Amy could just make out the X on Mark's neck, which had already turned completely black, paving the path for those inky lines to flow. They were spreading much faster on Mark's body than they had on Tyler's, covering every visible part of his now pale skin and even his eyes. His warm brown irises and normal white sclera were slowly being overtaken by darkness, the black of the ink eclipsing every other colour by spreading throughout his eyes in thin, spindly black tendrils.

"I said get out!" Mark cried again, his fading eyes not really focusing on anything as he spoke.

"I'm not leaving! We had a deal and you're upholding your end, whether you like it or not!" Dark snapped back, using Mark's mouth to speak.

Amy didn't understand how Dark was able to come back so soon but decided to file it under the "Get Really Angry About Later, When You're Not Fighting for Your Life" department, which was growing increasingly bigger. She had bigger fish to fry right now.

Amy was only a foot away from the entryway now, leaving her hiding behind a couch and waiting for the perfect opportunity to run the rest of the way. Even though Kathryn's back was turned, Tyler would still definitely see her.

She only had one chance.

Mark screamed again, the loudest he had so far, and yelled once more at the being that was currently invading his brain.

"I'll kill you!" He shrieked, the words so full of abhorrence and spite that it made even Amy, who wasn't the target of his words, flinch. Truth be told, she'd never heard him get this angry before. Not at anything, and most certainly not at anyone. Though Dark, she had to reminded herself, wasn't just anyone.

Amy tensed in preparation for Mark's next onslaught of screams, but none came. He was now finally silent, and with a sense of overwhelming dread Amy realized what that meant. The hidden escapee didn't even have to peak around the corner to know that the man she loved had been pushed aside to a dark corner of his mind and replaced with something inhuman.

Time to move.

Before the notion of fear could sway her decision, Amy made a break for it. She darted out from behind the hulking chair, much to the protest of literally her entire body, and started sprinting as far as she could into the other room, not looking back once. For if she looked back, Dark's sinister grin could very well be the last thing she saw, which was a positively sickening outcome that Amy did not want to come to fruition.

Upon stumbling into the other room at high speed (or as high a speed as her injured body allowed her), Amy discovered two things.

One: Seth had managed to get a portal open. It sat in the center of the room, directly on top of a piece of parchment, which Amy knew Seth had used to produce it.

Two: Seth was bleeding. A lot.

Crimson red stained the floor, the back wall and even the ceiling. It stuck to the hardwood, clung to the carpet, and decorated the hanging ornaments with its disgusting hue and viscosity. And even though Amy had seen that substance more times than anyone ever should over the past two days, looking at it still didn't get any easier. That sticky red liquid still made her want to vomit and/or scream, still made her wish that none of it was real.

Scanning the room in a panic, Amy's eyes fell upon the bloodied and beaten man by the wooden bench/couch, leaning on the furniture for support with one arm and pressing against a growing red patch on his chest with the other. His own blood was streaked through his hair and across nearly every part of his suit, staining and colouring him crimson just like the portion of the room around him. While his face was pale and covered with sweat, he didn't look close to losing consciousness yet, which was shocking. From the amount of blood that could be seen in the room, he should actually be dead by now. If he were human, that is.

Amy took a few quick steps forward, only to be met with Seth mouthing something she couldn't quite make out while shaking his head subtly. Amy tilted her head in confusion, stopping dead in her tracks while staring at Seth as he continued to mouth the same phrase over and over again, looking more and more alarmed as each second passed. It wasn't until Amy heard a high-pitched ringing that she finally understood what Seth was trying to tell her.

_Behind you._

"I'm sorry, but where do you think you're going?"

Amy didn't want to turn around. She knew that voice, she'd heard it only moments ago, and she knew who she'd see when she turned around.

"At least turn around and face me. You're being rather rude."

Amy wanted to teach Dark right then and there what "rude" could really mean, but instead slowly turned around to face him.

"That's better," he said, his expression cold and emotionless. He brushed his hair out of his face and adjusted his posture quickly before speaking again, trying to make himself look as important and formal as he possibly could in Mark's borrowed and worn-out clothes. "Now, you didn't answer my question. Where are you going?"

Amy stared at him in response, making sure to keep her expression totally unreadable. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a reply.

Dark narrowed his eyes at her. "I see. Not in a talking mood today?"

Again, Amy met his question with only silence.

"Understandable. You've been through hell and back." He paused, a small trace of a smirk on his lips. "But have you given any thought to who _really_ put you through that hell?"

The fact that Dark had the audacity to pretend he hadn't been the source of their suffering was enough to make Amy want to give up her calm façade and scream at him, but she managed to keep herself in check.

"I know, you blame me. I wouldn't expect anything different. That's what happens when you only look at a story from one perspective.

Let me ask you this Amy. Have you ever wondered how I felt about this situation?"

Amy's silence was more out of confusion this time, that question so strange that she didn't really have a reply for it.

"I don't want people to die, Amy. That's why I haven't killed any of you yet. It would be such a waste of life to just off you all under these circumstances. I wanted your help. I wanted Mark's help. That was our deal. I help him change the world, and he lets me in. But he backed out on his end of it. He was afraid, you see, which is understandable, and fear lead him into this mess. I had no choice but to forcibly get him to uphold his end of the bargain. I need him, and as strange as it may seem, he needs me."

Amy's anger was now mixing with a newfound sense of curiosity. What was Dark playing at here?

"We're two sides of the same coin, Mark and I. Not the same person exactly, but our fates are intertwined nonetheless. _This_ was fated to happen. It always has been. I just wish it had been through more peaceful circumstances."

The ringing sound was growing louder now, extremely disorienting and ear-splitting at the same time. Amy thought she could hear Seth say something to her, but wasn't certain, as it was hard to make out anything over the noise. Anything apart from Dark's voice that is.

"Have you any idea what it's like to suffer? To be ripped apart piece by piece, mentally and physically, for no reason other than the fact that you were born different? Born wrong? To be called a disgrace and a mistake everyday, to be publicly humiliated and tormented more times than you can remember because the number is too high to count? Do you have any idea?!"

Dark's body split into two different versions for a moment, a duplicate and screaming version of himself forming for only a moment before disappearing. It almost looked the same as when an animator makes a mistake in a film, the character's body parts suddenly moving to a place they couldn't possibly have moved to within a one second time frame before returning to normal. Only this was much more obvious than that, and much more... disturbing. Those small animation errors don't typically depict someone screaming after all.

"Because I do," Dark continued, his voice containing a hint of something she had never heard from him before. Sadness. Though it was only there for a moment, it could still be heard loud and clear, dripping off of his words like melancholic molasses. "And so does he!"

Upon uttering those last words, Dark pointed furiously at Seth, who still remained petrified and pained by the bench, looking on at the conversation with fear in his eyes. He looked directly at Amy, his lips moving and his face forming different expressions as he did so, but Amy had no clue what he was saying. That ringing sound and Dark's voice seemed to dominate and obliterate any other form of noise, cutting off everything else completely and trapping Amy in a disoriented state.

"But he does not know suffering in the way that I do," Dark spat, practically shooting daggers at Seth with his loathing gaze. "He only knows what the meaning of suffering is because he watched it. He allowed it. He _condoned_ it. This wretch sat by and watched as I experienced utter hell, never doing anything to stop it even though he had the power to do so! He condemned me to a fate far worse than death, giving me a life so full of misery and agony that I don't think there are words or images powerful enough to describe it!"

The same splitting phenomenon as before happened again as Dark screamed those last two sentences, his form momentarily breaking as a screaming one replaced it, lasting longer this time. But just like before, Dark was able to compose himself and carry on like nothing had happened.

"I only want to deliver the justice that should've been brought about long ago. I want to end the tyrannical rain of the Council for good, and show Them the true meaning of suffering as They did to me. And I want your help. I _need_ your help."

The ringing sound was unbearable now, bringing back the dizziness Amy had felt from being thrown across a room and making it hard to think straight. Dark's perspective went against everything they thought about him, all of the things they'd deduced based on his actions, and brought so many questions to the table. Was Dark being truthful about his intentions? Had he done all of this for a good reason? Was he actually the bad guy here? Amy knew that she at one time had the answers to those questions, but her brain was so muddled and noisy that she couldn't retrieve those answers.

"Who's really the bad guy here? All I want is to end the reign of the tyrants that caused me so much pain. Why is that such a bad thing? From what I remember, They didn't do much to help you when you went and pleaded for Their assistance. They even went as far as to try and kill you! They don't care about the lives of humans, and They certainly don't care about you, or Mark, or anyone but Themselves. Why fight against the downfall of such beings?

You could end this all so easily. Stop fighting me, and stop fighting the fall of the Council. What purpose does it serve you? Why protect a broken and awful world that isn't even your own?"

Dark started taking slow steps towards Amy, who was too disoriented to even be able to move. She couldn't think, couldn't speak, could barely even breathe. All she could do was watch as Dark moved closer to her, feeling her mind become even more filled with static and haze as he did so.

"I can bring Mark back to you. He's still here, Amy. He always was. Like I told you, we're two sides of a coin, two heads to the same creature. I have become him, and he has become me."

Dark's blue and red aura started to fade away, the dark circles around his eyes that came with his appearance disappearing as well. His posture relaxed, and his eyes became filled with the same warmth and vivacity as Mark's always were, the sinister aura that normally accompanied Dark's presence being overshadowed by Mark's.

"Join him," he said, though his voice was now different. There was still that deeper and echoing undertone to it, but it was masked almost entirely by Mark's normal speaking voice.

"Join _me_. Let's destroy those who have only brought suffering to both you and I. Together." He smiled at Amy and held out his hand, as if expecting her to take it. Truthfully, she wanted to. She wanted all of this to stop. For her friends to stop being turned into monsters. For all of them to stop being forced to kill or wound in self-defence. For their lives to stop being constantly epitomized by fear.

All Amy wanted was for things to be normal again.

And this could make it normal again. Couldn't it? All she had to do was say yes, to trust him and this would all be over.

_No._

_Wait._

_This isn't right._

That desperate need for safety and normality was pushed aside by a flood made of a very particular emotion, one that Amy was now incredibly accustomed to. It drowned out that God awful ringing sound, cleared her head of dizziness and befuddlement and brought her perception of Dark back to what it normally was, transforming him once again into the horrible creature who'd brought them nothing but misery.

That one emotion allowed Amy to see through everything.

Rage was its name.

And that rage brought a desire for not safety or normality, but something on the opposite end of the spectrum.

A desire for vengeance.

"No," she said, her tone level and steady with a clear air of defiance.

Dark's form flickered again before he dropped his hand, the smile disappearing from his face entirely and getting replaced by a scowl. The ringing noise also vanished, allowing Amy to better focus on her surroundings and get her bearings again.

"No?" He parroted, his voice filled with disbelief.

"No," Amy repeated. "You're not Mark, and I know the farthest thing from your mind is helping us. You just want to watch your entire world burn because of something others did to you long, long ago. And who's to say you'll stop there? How do I know that you won't use all of us to take over this world and then run it into ruin?"

Dark stared at Amy in stunned silence, at a loss for an answer. It seemed there was nothing he could say to counter Amy's accusations, as she'd suspected, putting him on the losing side of this argument. It gave Amy a small rush of pride, knowing she was victorious in what could've been a grim situation.

Amy's victory didn't last long however, as Dark's expression of disbelief quickly turned into one of rage.

"That's not the right answer," he hissed, his from flickering and moving in that disturbing manner due to his anger. "And you're going to regret that."

He started walking towards Amy again, this time in a much more threatening manner, pure hate filling his dark eyes. Amy tried to back away, but felt her heart nearly skip a beat when her hand and back came into contact with the wall, preventing her from putting any more distance between her and Dark. She'd seen past the being's lies, but now what? He was slowly cornering her, leaving Amy with no way out and allies that were either possessed and long gone or bleeding on the floor.

"I offered you a choice, Amy. A chance. You could've lived."

A sadistic smirk was now present on his face, creating an odd contrast with the loathing and anger in his eyes.

"But you chose wrong."

Amy braced herself for whatever it was Dark had planned, a punch to the face, a hand around her neck, a swift break of her arm, but none of that came. Instead, a much more comforting and unforeseen sound rang out.

The sound of a dog's bark.

Or Chica's bark, more specifically.

In the heat of the moment, Amy hadn't considered the fact that Chica might still be in the same room they left her in. Amy assumed that she had fled, seeing as she was nowhere in sight when they brought Kathryn back to the house, or that she was cowering in another room. That was what most dogs would've done when presented with paranormal circumstances, after all, so Amy hadn't really though much of it.

But here she was, in this very room, standing behind Dark with her teeth bared and her body language clearly giving away the fact that she did not take kindly to the entity's presence. Chica must have picked up on the fact that Amy was in danger, or perhaps that Seth was bleeding, and had entered the situation undetected by all of them.

Dark turned his head to look back at the dog, confused at first, but the perturbed by her appearance.

"Shoo!" He growled at Chica, which only made her bark aggressively in response. "Go away!"

Suddenly, Chica lunged at Dark, ramming full-force into his chest and knocking him off balance. While this action caught Amy by surprise, she was still able to process it fast enough to move out of the way of a stumbling Dark.

Amy could hear Chica's growls and whimpers, as well as Dark's cries of pain and rage, but didn't get a chance to take a look at the situation. Seth called out to her before she could.

"Amy!" He shouted out of the blue, making Amy turn her head towards him. "Grab the gun! It's on the table! Then get through the portal!"

Amy didn't hesitate in the slightest, happy to finally have a way out of this mess. She ran over to the wooden table, which had blueprints and jot notes strewn across it as well as the gun, and grabbed the weapon in one swift motion. She turned around again and started heading quickly towards the portal, noticing that Seth was grabbing two things off of the shelf while she did so.

"You go first!" Seth called to her, not looking away from his search for whatever it was he needed this time.

Amy reached the gateway, fully intending on following Seth's instructions, but there was something holding her back. Something that kept her frozen there.

What would happen to Chica if she left? Dark wouldn't kill her, would he? Amy felt the uncertainty of the fight holding her back like chains, preventing her from jumping into the portal out of pure worry.

Maybe she could stay behind and help Chica, or at least get her out of here. Amy would never be able to live with herself if something happened to the dog.

She never got the chance to though, as before she could do anything Seth placed his hands on Amy's shoulders and shoved her into the portal, sending her from one dimension of blood and war and into another.


	24. Chapter Twenty-One

What you don't know could kill you.

So, don't blindly run through the dark, trusting that things will work out.

** Because there will be something lurking in the dark, waiting for you. **

* * *

Amy was mad at first, because frankly, being pushed into an interdimensional gateway wasn't exactly pleasant.

But considering that she had no clue what would have happened to her if she stayed back at Seth's house with a very pissed off Dark, she couldn't complain all that much. She just really hoped Chica was okay.

The trip through the wormhole was faster than it had been last time, maybe because it was familiar and therefore less frightening, or maybe the adrenaline pumping through Amy's veins had something to do with it. Either way, within several seconds of entering the portal Amy fell out of it, landing on the ground of Seth's dimension of origin. She made sure to brace herself for impact this time, seeing as last time she landed on the black grass at an odd and painful angle, which was one that she was not planning on landing in again. Especially now that she was still recovering from being thrown across a room, and was carrying a rather fragile weapon.

With a groan Amy sat up, looking around immediately in case any of those creatures had seen her magical entrance. She didn't want a repeat of last time, when a whole crowd of them had gathered around the portal, because she knew they'd be less hesitant to kill her now that she was a fugitive in this dimension. Thankfully, Amy didn't spot anyone watching her, which set her mind at ease a small bit. Although she did find it a bit unnerving, because not only was there nobody watching her, there was nobody around _at all_. No one was leisurely walking down the sidewalk, no one was standing around chatting with neighbours. The air was filled with a chilling silence, the kind that occurs in a horror movie when the protagonist stupidly enters the abandoned house, only it was somehow ludicrously more silent than that. It was _otherworldly_ silent, to be precise. There weren't even any lights on in the identical houses that lined the street, each and every one of them dark and eerily lifeless, as if their inhabitants had left them long ago.

In short, it was a ghost town, and an alien one at that, which made it far creepier.

Amy felt a chill run up her spine at the sight of it all, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. They couldn't be too late. Not yet. Something had clearly happened here, but the annihilation of an entire world of people couldn't have occurred yet. Not with Dark still back on Earth. They still had time, though how much of it Amy wasn't sure, and she wasn't willing to test it by waiting around on the ground anymore.

Just as Amy got her feet, the portal glowed to life again, indicating that someone else was about to come through. Amy backed away slightly, both to avoid being crushed by the newcomer and as a precaution, just in case it wasn't Seth who showed up.

Her caution was fortunately unnecessary, as it was indeed Seth who fell through the wormhole that he'd created. Landing on his feet, he helped absorb the impact of his fall by bending his knees, then quickly looked back up again. The man muttered something under his breath, another spell in a language that a human like Amy could never begin to comprehend, and as a result the portal shuddered (if that was even the right word. The way it moved was so strange there isn't a word in the English language that can describe it properly) and the purple light it emitted began to fade. Like the moon eclipsing the sun, the gateway began to close, starting at one end and slowly moving towards the other, leaving nothing but the darkness of the unnatural black sky in its wake.

"I'm sorry I pushed you," Seth said sheepishly after he had finished, not even turning around to face Amy.

Amy blinked in confusion for a second before she remembered what he was referring to. The uneasiness caused by the alien ghost town had sent the slight annoyance of being pushed to the back of her mind.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "We've got bigger things to worry about right now."

Seth finally turned around to face her, giving her a sad smile once his gaze met hers. It was then that Amy was able to see that there were three long gashes across his face, ones that hadn't been there before their encounter with Dark.

Amy opened her mouth to ask about them, but Seth, as if predicting what she was going to say, cut her off before she could.

"Like you said, bigger things to worry about. They're just scratches," he said, playing it off. But Amy could tell those cuts were deeper than Seth was letting on. There was also the wound on his torso, too, and all of those combined made it impossible to believe the lie.

Seth reached into his bloodied suit jacket pocket, pulling out a knife and a bottle full of a clear semi-liquid, which were presumably the objects he'd been searching for before they left.

"You might want to look away for this," Seth said. "This process gets fairly messy, as you've already seen."

Amy remembered the last time she'd seen those two objects in Seth's possession, back when he was healing Mark's and Tyler's wounds after their violent first encounter, and decided it would be best to heed his advice. Amy turned around and faced the house closest to her, its unnervingly desolate nature honestly not better to look at.

"I should've known something was irreversibly wrong with Kathryn sooner. Or irreversibly wrong with my level of skill, more accurately." Amy could hear Seth unscrewing the cap off of the bottle as he talked. "They wouldn't have left her with us otherwise. It was all part of a bigger plan, and we played right into their hands."

It saddened Amy to know that he was right, and that they'd fallen for a very obvious trap. Looking back, they all should've know something was wrong if Anti and demon-Ethan were so willing to leave Kathryn with the group. They had clearly known that Seth wouldn't be able to fix her, and that she had the ability to break the seal Seth had placed on Mark and Tyler, so they'd left her behind to wreak havoc.

"We all should've known."

Seth groaned in pain suddenly, almost prompting Amy to turn around out of sympathy, but then she remembered that she would end up gazing upon Seth plunging a knife coated in a magical fluid into his open wounds. Because she wasn't exactly ecstatic to see that, Amy remained facing the other way.

"I wouldn't have expected any of you to notice. After all, you only just gained proper knowledge on this matter, what, two days ago?" Seth continued, giving a small nervous chuckle at his rhetorical question. "It's not a concept that is easily grasped, and you had no way of knowing what was happening to Kathryn. I, however, should have."

Seth groaned in pain again, slightly quieter this time, before changing the subject. "But I suppose we shouldn't dwell on this. We have to get moving, before Dark and the others catch up with us."

Amy heard Seth place the lid back on the bottle and took that as her cue to turn back around. As she did so, she gestured slightly with the alien weapon in her hand, presenting to Seth the fact that it was intact and (probably) operational. 

"Time to use this thing."

Upon finally taking notice of it, Seth's expression fell, his face gaining that far away and distant look that Amy still had no explanation for. 

"Right, that," he said, somewhat dismally. "I'll lead us to the power reserve. It's unfortunately all the way in a secluded wing of the Hall, but there doesn't seem to be many people around, so we should be able to make it there in one piece."

"And then what?" Amy asked, watching as Seth already started to make his way down the sidewalk.

"Then we wait for Dark and his new army to show up, and use the weapon. And... go from there I guess."

Amy frowned at Seth's response, his words seeming very uncharacteristic of him. Amy had been expecting Seth to give her the full run down of the plan, each step having been thought out in great detail, but instead she was met with a simple "we'll go from there." It set her on edge even more than the alien ghost town, because Seth's endless amounts of prepared plans and extensive general knowledge were things that Amy had become accustomed to, turning them into two of the only constants that she could count on now that their worlds had been turned upside down. But now, having those constants removed, having Seth's plans and strategies vanish, was like having a rug pulled out from under her. Something that she had learned to count on was suddenly taken away with no explanation.

But _was_ there even an explanation? Did Seth really just not have a plan? Or was he hiding something from her?

It then occurred to Amy that he had in fact kept something hidden from her. What he was going to do to Dark once he destabilized Mark's physical form.  

Seth had never once mentioned that part of the plan to any member of the group, which was odd, because it seemed like something of grave importance. And yet he didn't speak of it, didn't give directions on how to execute it or explain what it was actually going to be at all. Had he just not thought that far ahead?

Or was there something about that part of the plan he didn't want anyone knowing?

As Amy started down the sidewalk after Seth, making sure to follow closely behind him, she decided it was best to let those questions go unanswered for now. They were literally marching towards what would be their final destination on this messed up journey, so everything would be revealed soon. All she had to do was wait.

And besides, **what you don't know** **won't hurt you**.

Right?

* * *

 

"In here!" Seth called.

Amy snapped away from her thoughts and looked at where Seth was heading towards, realizing that they had finally reached the Hall. 

"This is the door to the private wing," he whispered, though Amy didn't understand why he was trying to be quiet when there was nobody around. "They keep contained units of the power source we're looking for in here."

After opening the decrepit door at the side of the majestic building that he'd stopped in front of, Seth walked into the building he was no longer welcome in, with Amy walking closely behind him.

Beyond that misleading door was a room that was completely unlike the grand and eloquent part of the Hall Amy and the others had visited before. No prestigious plaques or weapons decorated the walls in this room, no fancy chandelier hung from the ceiling. And there were most certainly not any members of the Council here, which was the only part of this section of the Hall that Amy liked.

For instead of luxurious furnishings and an air of regality, this room was filled with disturbing-looking scientific equipment and the kind of vibe you would get from visiting a hospital. Metal tables and shelves full of jars and tools adorned the room to the point where there was nowhere in the room where you could look and not see them. Bright white lights hung from the ceiling and swayed gently for an unknown reason, casting an eerie glow on anything in the room and successfully freaking out Amy at the same time. The white tiles that made up the floor were far from squeaky clean, with splotches of what looked like blood, oil, and other miscellaneous substances dotted across them, meaning you couldn't even look down without feeling repulsed or uncomfortable.

And worst of all were the test tubes lined up against the far wall of the room, each filled with a different but similarly horrifying specimen.

Absolutely everything about this room made Amy want walk back out the door, close it, and get as far away from this hospital-like hell as possible. But sadly, she couldn't do that just yet, no matter how desperately she wanted to. They had to grab the power source first.

"If my memory serves me right," Seth babbled, walking across the disgusting room, somehow unfazed by the sinister contraptions around him. "What we need should be in a cupboard back here by these experiments."

Amy shuddered when she noticed he was walking right towards the test tubes, meaning that those things inside were the "experiments" he was referring to. Reluctantly, she followed him, trying to avert her eyes from the tubes as best she could.

"What is this place?" Amy asked, after finally working up the nerve to. In all honesty, she really didn't care what this repulsive place was before, but maybe striking up a conversation would help distract her from the less than pleasant scenery.

"A lab," Seth replied rummaging through one cupboard before shaking his head and moving on to the next. "A few of the Council members use this room frequently for genetic testing or experiments. I never came in here all that often because this room makes me uncomfortable, but I did have to visit it once or twice for one reason or another."

The last part of Seth's answer was much too vague for Amy's liking, prompting another question.

"Why did you come here?"

"Like I said, the reasons varied," Seth snapped, his response coming across harsher than Amy expected. It was becoming clear that he didn't want to talk about it.

Crying out in triumph suddenly, Seth reached far into the cupboard he'd been searching through and pulled out a cylinder filled with a glowing neon-pink liquid.

"This is it," he explained, allowing himself to marvel at its strange colour and vibrancy for a moment. Amy did have to admit, it looked almost beautiful, despite being strange at the same time. Maybe that's why it was beautiful. Because it was strange. Whatever the case, Amy couldn't help but marvel alongside Seth.

Breaking his transfixion on the object, Seth placed the cylindrical vile into Amy's hand. 

"There should be a slot at the back to input the power source," Seth explained. "Place it inside."

Following his directions, Amy scanned the alien weapon until she found the part that Seth had described. On the right-hand side of the back of the gun, just behind the trigger, was a hardly noticeable slot where something of cylindrical shape could fit in. It was so well camouflaged with the rest of the device that Amy would never have noticed it had Seth not pointed it out.

She placed the vile carefully into the slot, the gun making a satisfying click upon her doing this. There was a moment of panicked silence at first, both Amy and Seth worried that it hadn't worked, but then the machine started to give a cheerful hum as it whirred to life, loaded and ready for action.

"Yes!" Seth shouted victoriously. "We did it!"

But, like many of their small victories over the course of those two days, their triumph at having gotten the weapon to work was very short lived.

Because it was at that moment that a group of figures appeared at the door Amy and Seth had entered through, their arrival made obvious by the words their leader spoke.

"Not yet."

The sound of a third voice made Amy nearly jump out of her skin. Turning around in an instant so that she could find the source of the sound, Amy found herself locking eyes with not only Dark, but the rest of her now possessed friends as well, all of them except Dark carrying a weapon of some kind. Though their eye colours varied, each and every one of them gazed at the petrified woman with expressions she never thought she'd see them wear. Expressions she didn't think were even _possible_ for any of them to wear.

Tyler's face was blank and emotionless, leering at Amy with a stare so chilling it would make even the most aggressive or irritable people freeze in their tracks. They'd all joked about him being Stone-Face Tyler in the past, but this... this took it to a literal level. The way he stared at Seth and Amy not only made his face devoid of emotion, but it made it seem like he himself was devoid of emotion. Like he couldn't feel anything anymore. It was as if he'd become a statue, a cold stone shell of someone who was once a trusted friend.

Kathryn's expression was similar to Tyler's, and yet somehow completely different. That emotionless and icy stare was present with her, but in a different way. There was an undertone to it that made it feel more cunning, more sly. It almost seemed calculating and distant, robotic even. Like she'd become a machine. An android. Something that was made up of wires and code that couldn't feel emotion any more than a stone statue could.

And then there was Ethan, who was on the opposite end of the spectrum. His glowing blue eyes didn't have the calculating nature that Kathryn's had, but a more devious and sadistic nature instead, locking onto Amy and Seth like a missile to its target. His mouth was curved into a small conniving smirk, showing that he was immensely enjoying the fearful reactions he and the others had received from the trapped duo at the other end of the room. If his purely nefarious intentions had been any more plainly written on his face, it would've been almost comical.

But it was Anti that scared her the most.

His stare was even more cunning then Kathryn's the grin on his face a thousand times more sadistic than the one on Ethan's, and the lack of empathy even more present than with Tyler. Those green and black eyes cut through the air like daggers, boring into Amy's soul and making her feel as though he was going to walk over and somehow rip it out. His teeth were freakishly large and sharp, Jack's normal ones having mutated into the rows of fangs that Amy saw, with so much potential for inflicting pain it was hard to even look at them. Everything about him was so completely different from Jack that they didn't even look that similar. They might share the same body, but the utterly odious appearance of Anti was so unlike Jack's that it was impossible to believe.

"Hand the weapon over," Dark growled, walking towards Amy and Seth with his arm outstretched. "And I'll make your deaths quick."

The creatures behind him all raised their weapons in response to Dark's threat, all very eager to carry it out if necessary. Or unnecessary. Amy got the impression they wouldn't hesitate to kill them no matter what she or Seth did.

"No," Seth declared defiantly.

Amy didn't even have to speak to confirm her agreement with that statement, showing it through her body language instead. She pulled the gun closer to her body and away from Dark, giving a clear indication that she wasn't going to willingly let it go anytime soon.

Dark scowled at them in annoyance, which was almost laughable. Did he really think they were going to just hand over the weapon and accept death?

"Fine then. Have it your way."

The group behind Dark started to move away from their place by the door, inching closer and closer to Seth and Amy, who were both beginning to feel extremely claustrophobic in this situation. Amy began to internally panic, the fact that they didn't have a viable escape route dawning on her and making her feel even more suffocated in this God-forsaken lab. 

She felt a small tap on her hand from someone beside her, which was Seth. Once he noticed Amy looking towards him he moved his head to the right in a very subtle manner, trying to gesture to something that was over there.

As covertly as possible, Amy tilted her head to peek around Seth and found that he had been motioning towards a door, which was only a few feet away from where the man was standing.

So, there was a way out after all.

Out of nowhere, Seth abruptly cried out "now!" and lunged at an approaching Dark, giving Amy a way to access the door he'd been motioning to. There were two drawbacks to his plan however, as Amy had not been expecting him to move so soon and Dark was easily able to sidestep Seth's attack. Amy only had a few seconds to register what he'd done before Anti, Tyler, Kathryn and Ethan were all focused on Seth, and Dark's gaze was entirely focused on her and the weapon in her hands.

Like anyone else would've done, Amy broke into a sprint and darted towards the door, eager to get the hell out of there.

She could hear Dark's footsteps behind her, following the escapee in close pursuit, but she didn't care. She had to get out of that room, find out how to get the weapon to built up enough of a charge in order to shoot, and then come back and blast away Dark/Mark's physical form.

Safely making it to the door, Amy closed it as quickly as possible behind her, no longer hearing Dark's following footsteps once she did so. She was instead met with silence from the empty room she'd just entered, which was the part of the Hall she and the others had been to before. Without the Council members in it, it looked a lot less threatening than it had before, allowing Amy a sense of relief and a moment to calm herself down and think of a plan. 

But a plan never came to fruition.

Instead, a deep chuckle broke the silence of the Hall, which was followed by a blow to Amy's stomach and the feeling of her body hitting the ground. She could feel the weapon skittering out of her hands as she made impact with the floor, gliding across the polished tile and coming to a stop at a familiar pair of shoes.

"I gave you a choice," Dark said to Amy, making her look up to meet the gaze of her attacker, who was now holding the weapon she'd dropped. "And you threw it away."

Amy got the impression that those words were meant to have sounded sad or regretful, but with Dark's voice they sounded nothing like that. They sounded callous and empty, both adjectives that could also be used to describe the rest of Dark as well.

"You could've helped me Amy. You could've fought alongside me, and together we could have brought an end to this pathetic and wretched world."

"I don't want that," Amy spat at him before he could continue. Dark only narrowed his eyes in response.

" _Why?_ This world has done nothing for you! The people here have only brought you suffering, _especially_ the Council. I cannot comprehend why you are willing to go to such lengths to protect it all."

Frankly, Amy didn't comprehend it either. No one in this dimension had given her a reason to protect it. Only reasons to destroy it. And yet she still did not want to see it burn. Maybe some would, but she didn't. The thought of how it would feel for her own dimension to be destroyed, for everyone she loved to be killed out of a sick act of vengeance, was truthfully the only thing that prevented her from surrendering. If she didn't want it to happen to her home, she wasn't willing to let happen to anyone else's, no matter who they were.

"Well I wouldn't expect you to understand. You're a pathetic creature who only feels hate. I doubt you even know what compassion is."

Now Dark was mad. He looked at her with even more hatred than before, gripping the weapon in his hands even tighter.

"You're going to regret saying that."

With one hand Dark reached towards the back of the weapon and flipped a switch or a lever of some kind, one that Amy hadn't seen when the gun was in her possession. The act caused the machine to begin whirring in a high pitch tone that steadily grew higher, indicating that it was charging up. He then trained it on Amy, intending to fire the weapon directly at her.

"Goodbye, Amy Nelson."

Amy knew she had to think of a way to fix this, and fast. But Dark was only moments away from pulling the trigger, giving her almost no time to think of a plan.

Almost.

Because in the nick of time, Amy remembered how unusual and early Dark's appearance was. How he wasn't supposed to have been able to possess Mark for another few hours. How Seth's spell should've still been active. Maybe, just maybe, because Dark had somehow shown up early, there was still remnants of Seth's spell remaining. Maybe those remnants made it still possible for Mark to gain control again. Maybe she could get Mark back.

It was a long shot, but what other choice did Amy have?

"Mark, please don't do this," she pleaded, looking directly into Dark's eyes and hoping to see the warmth of Mark's return. "I know you don't want to."

Dark was stunned by Amy's plea for a moment, but quickly became angry again.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Mark isn't-"

"I wasn't talking to you, asshole!" Amy yelled, cutting Dark off. He shut his mouth in surprise, not expecting to be interrupted. 

"Mark, I know you can hear me. I need you to stop him."

For a moment, Dark's expression faltered. His face softened, and his anger melted away. The darkness in his eyes was briefly replaced by the glimmer of light in Mark's.

But it only lasted for a second or two, because almost as soon as it started Dark shook his head, regaining full control.

"This won't get you anywhere. He can't hear you. I made sure of that."

"Mark, listen to me. I need you to take control again. Fight him off, do whatever you have to do, just get rid of him."

At first it seemed like her cries had fallen upon deaf ears, as Dark's expression remained unchanging, just as hate-filled as ever.

But then, it impossibly changed. The desire for vengeance left his leering gaze, the red and blue glow that always accompanied Dark faded away, and his grip on the weapon loosened. In an instant, he went from a monster back to the person Amy had started to believe she would never see again.

Blinking and looking around in confusion, Mark slowly began to become aware of his surroundings.

"Amy? Where are we?" He asked, his voice filled with a tinge of fear. Amy wished she had time to fill him in on everything, but she didn't. They had to act now, before Dark took control again.

"No time to explain," Amy replied bluntly. "I'll tell you later. For now I need you to fire that weapon at yourself."

Mark looked down at his hands, suddenly becoming aware of the fact that he was holding a gun. His expression hardened into one of grim understanding, and without saying anything else he pointed the weapon at his chest, placing his finger by the trigger and preparing to pull it.

And then, showing up at the worst possible time, like he always did, Dark decided to try and take control again.

Mark cried out in pain, the weapon's aim moving away from his chest as he reached up to clutch his head, where Dark was no doubt causing chaos.

"Are you kidding me?!" Amy yelled, frustrated by Dark's persistence.

"Fuck off!" Mark screamed at Dark, his eyes shut tightly out of pain.

"Give me back control!" A deeper voice answered, using Mark's mouth to reply against his will.

"I **w** o **n** 't **l** e **t** y **o** u **d** o **t** h **i** s **!** " This time, Amy couldn't tell who was speaking. Both Mark's and Dark's voices sounded at once, making it difficult to discern which one actually meant those words.

Amy could only watch as Mark fought a battle within his own head, screaming at him to fight it from the sidelines and praying that it was helping in some way. They'd come too far. They couldn't lose now. Not when this was all so close to finally being over.

After what felt like both a lifetime and an instant, Mark/Dark's screams stop, which made Amy stop yelling as well. There was only silence for a moment. That unforgiving, heavy silence.

Mark calmly brought the weapon up to his chest, as if he hadn't been screaming in pain only seconds ago, and placed his finger on the trigger. The whole time he looked right at Amy, his face filled with an immeasurable sadness, one that bordered on guilt.

"I love you."

Immediately after uttering those words, Mark pulled the trigger, firing the weapon at himself and causing him to scream out in pain from the impact. A bright pink light began to engulf his body, traveling all the way from his head to his toes in a fraction of a second and surrounding him with a blinding glow. The brightness only grew in intensity from there, seemingly escaping through his very skin, lighting up his eyes with the neon colour, which was absolutely terrifying to look at. 

At the area of his chest where he'd fired the weapon, Amy began to notice something strange coming from within Mark's body. Or rather, two strange things. Inside his chest burned two supernatural flames, one black and one red, the red one slightly more apparent, as if it was in the foreground while the black one was in the background.

Their auras.

Amy expected Mark's physical form to dissipate after becoming entirely consumed by the pink light, and for his and Dark's auras to suddenly be floating in front of her, left without a body. Just like Seth had said it would.

But that's not what happened.

Instead, the pink light spread to the inside of Mark's chest, beginning to consume the two auras that resided within. Slowly but surely, the light began to eat away at the two flames, making them smaller and smaller, which also diminished the brightness of the glow that surrounded Mark's body. Amy watched in horror as the auras, both Mark's and Dark's, finally disappeared entirely, Mark's body going from having two souls inside of it to none at all.

Once both auras had been consumed, the pink glow vanished, and Mark's empty body crumpled to the ground, landing on its side. It stared at Amy with cold, dead, and lifeless eyes, ones Amy had only ever seen in her nightmares.

Dark was dead and gone.

But so was Mark.


	25. Mark These Words

_ Dear... everyone, _

_ You're probably really mad and really confused right now. Rest assured, there is an explanation, but I don't think it's one you'll be happy to hear. _

_ So, first and foremost, if you're reading this, it means the plan worked. Which means I'm dead. _

_ I know, that wasn't the plan we discussed. I was supposed to live, we were supposed to "contain" Dark or whatever, and things should've all worked out. _

_ But that was a lie. _

_ Because there was no way any of that could happen. _

_ I can't give you all the answers, especially not in letter form. You'll have to get Seth to explain it to you. Just know that two separate blood pacts involving the same entity makes things... complicated, and that building that weapon and killing me was the only way we could sort out those complications. We needed a way to take down both Dark and The Author before they could hurt anyone else and, as much as I know this isn’t the best option, it’s the best one we’ve got. I was the shared link between them, and we had to use that to our advantage. _

_ Truthfully, maybe if we'd had a bit more time, we could've found a way to keep me alive. Maybe we could've discovered a way to break a blood pact. Maybe we could've even found a way to make Dark concede. But time was something we didn't have, and even if it had been, I still would've chosen this outcome. _

_ I dragged you all into this mess. I ruined your lives. You had to go through hell, and for what? For a mistake that I made years ago? That doesn't seem fair, does it? _

_ So, I want to make it fair. Make things right.  _

_ This was my mistake, and mine alone. None of you should have ever had to deal with the consequences. _

_ I'm done trying to run from this. I'm done trying to pretend this problem doesn't exist, hoping that it will go away if I ignore it long enough. Because it won't. And it hasn't. And it never will. Unless I atone for what I did, this will never ever end. _

_ Dark swore he would collect the debt I owed him. He told me to mark his words and remember what I still needed to give him. _

_ But I won't mark those words. _

_ I'll mark my own. _

_ So, mark my words, not his, that I will fix this. I will repay the debt I owe to all of you.  _

_ I vow to kill Dark and The Author, and give all of you a normal life again. _

_ And I will gladly give my life to make it happen. _

_ -Mark _


	26. Chapter Tweny-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some Zalgo text in this chapter, but if it's too hard to read then I might change it. And thank you all so much for 250+ reads!!!

Blood.

Blood.

_ Blood _ .

It was the first thing on Jack's mind when he woke up. The first thing he smelled. The first thing he felt. The first thing he saw.

It was even the first thing he tasted.

And it was after Jack awoke from the unnatural sleep he'd been in that he realized how much of it there was.

At first, he was too out of it too notice. His mind was still groggy and slow, and his eyes, while they could see, were having trouble focusing. If it hadn't been for the stickiness of his fingers, he probably would've stayed in that state for a lot longer.

Confused by the sensation on his hands, Jack tried his best to shake himself out of his daze and brought his hand into view. It took a couple of moments for him to fully process what he was looking at, because after all, it's not every day you see your hand coated in such a grim substance. But eventually, it was the crimson colour and metallic scent in the air that finally fired the connection in his foggy mind.

His hand was covered in blood.

Alarmed, Jack quickly moved his other hand in front of him to inspect it. Sure enough, it was painted red with the revolting liquid, every single inch of his skin stained and tainted by it. There was so much of it dripping off of his arm that it was as if he'd dipped the entire limb into a bucket of the stuff, leaving a sickeningly thick film on it afterwards.

Panicking even more at this point, Jack started to check the rest of his body for any stains of blood. Much to his dismay and utter terror, he found that there wasn't a part of him that was free of the liquid. His clothes were dyed from the dark colour, his hair partially red in some places, contrasting with the green and making a rather sickening collage of Christmas-themed colours. A metallic taste tainted his tongue, and though he normally didn't despise the taste, the current circumstance made Jack want to wash his mouth out with soap. There was even some still flowing out from inside of him, pouring out from the open but small wound on his face and limbs.

And not only was the blood on him, but around him as well. Jack was currently seated in a pool of the fluid, parts of his body submerged in a literal bloodbath. The sea of red stretched out a good metre or so around him in every direction, placing him directly in the middle and providing him with nowhere that he could direct his attention to in order to distract himself.

Like any normal person would, all of these factors combined made Jack start to go into shock. His already dazed and hazy mind almost completely shut down, putting the rest of his body into panic mode. He felt his heart nearly stop before beginning to thunder in his chest, he felt his lungs start to contract and expand far too quickly to be healthy, he felt his stomach churn with an icy feeling of dread, and could feel his skin itch and crawl at the knowledge that every inch of it was painted red. He was in such a horrified state that he couldn't even get his body to move in order to get out of the situation, trapping him on the floor and allowing the blood to continue to soak through his already sopping clothes.

What the hell happened here? To _him_?

Taking a slow and shaky breath in, Jack made an effort to calm himself down. Maybe then he'd be able to make some sense of this.

He finally gained enough control over his petrified body to pull himself off the ground, though it was still a bit hard to do when his hands refused to stop trembling, and when he involuntarily recoiled every time his arms sloshed through the blood. After a bit of struggle, the action brought Jack back to his feet and enabled him to get a view of the graphic scene around him, his enhanced perception both a good thing and a bad thing. He was now able to get a proper view of the room he'd woken up in, the full extent of it revealed, but this also revealed even more blood.

The walls, the metal tables, the scientific instruments. All of it was red. _All of it._

Red would now forever remind Jack of this room.

He no longer liked the colour red.

Pushing aside his thoughts of disgust and fear once again, Jack decided to look around for a way out of this hell-space. Dawdling in here wouldn't do him any good, especially if every passing second made his urge to both vomit and scream stronger. A quick scan of the room told Jack there was a door just a few feet away, sitting wide open and revealing the wall of the building that was next to whatever this place was. Jack also spied another exit across from that door, this one the same distance away from him as the other one, just in the opposite direction. The only problem was that the second door was closed, so Jack had no idea where it led, but given that the first one he saw lead out, Jack had a feeling that the opposite door lead further into this strange place. And he really wasn't excited to see what the rest of this building had to offer.

The Irishman skittishly made his way towards the open exit with a frightful spring in his step, as if he was worried the other door would come chasing after him angrily for not picking it. But more accurately, he moved so quickly because he wanted to get out before he saw anything else he would regret.

As it turns out, Jack did in fact see something he would regret.

But before that, he heard something he would regret.

D̬̼͎̩̳̾̌̌͐̐̾͞͠ͅǫ̨͓͚̆̐̈̀͛̏̍͘̚͢͜n̡̛̰̠̖̫̖̽̒̄̂͞'̺͍̯̪̹̪̲̃͆̄̀̏ţ̫̲̫̳͑̌̎̌̌̆̾̂̚ l̵̻̜̘͖̍̎̓͊̆̈́͘͟͠͡ͅe̸̡̢̗͖̣͙̍͋̒̀̅̓͘ä̵̱̤̮͎͖̀̈̅͡͝v̛̗̱͔̫̄̽̓̈́͋̄̊̕͟͠ę̶͇̮͚͓̠̪̓̌̓̉̒̂̍̕͡

Jack jumped in surprise at the sound of the sudden voice, nearly slipping on the blood covered floor.

I̶̖̺̣̥̳͇̺̿̃̓͌̎͌̃́͢͡ͅ l͕͇̦̼̹̜͕̬̼̊͂̓̏̽i̧̢̡͙͈̪̘͈͎̔̉̇̌̃͊̉̉͡k̮̰̭͍͕̿̇͆͒͂̈́͛͜e̫̰̭̜͓̠͌͗̒̐͢ ị̧̥̯̝͓͙̙̱̍͋̑͊͑̇̂̕t̻͕͕̹͊̃̉̒̿̏͘͟ i̻͇̹͇̹̓̈́͊̽̋̈͋͠n̡̠̘̭̜̱̼͐̒̈́͂̄̈́̍͟ ḩ̴̨͙̘͈̞͔̊̆̓̐̌͛́͘ȅ̶̪̠͚̰̜͇̘͑̾̐̔̿̿̚͟͢ͅr̴̞̦͔̦̳̦͇͔͑̃̔͒͋ͅe̵͎̠̥̖̥̟̺̳̓͋̄͂͛̿͒

Though Jack had no idea who was speaking or even where they were speaking from, their adoration for the red room was already enough to give him a bad impression.

"Who's there?" Jack cautiously called out.

Both to his frustration and relief, he didn't receive an answer.

Jack crossed his arms and pulled them close to his chest in an attempt to comfort himself, hoping he'd just imagined the voice. It wasn't exactly an unlikely explanation, seeing as he'd just awoken in a blood-filled room with no idea how he got there.

Come to think of it, he seemed to be missing a lot more from his memory than just how he got in this room. Trying as best he could, Jack attempted to remember any events from the past few hours or even the past day as he began to walk towards the exit again, but kept drawing a blank. He couldn't remember where he'd been or what he'd done recently, his short-term memory a completely useless function of his brain at the moment. Jack was aware that time had passed, oddly enough, but it was what he was doing during that passage that was hazy. He remembered a couple of feelings and sounds, but they were hazy, like the product of a comatose dream. And not only that, but they felt... distant. As if he hadn't heard the noises through his own two ears, or felt the sensations in his own body.

How long exactly had it been? How did he get here? Why couldn't he remember? What even was the last thing he could remember?

All of these questions seemed hopeless, until an answer to the last one miraculously popped into Jack's brain.

That night when he was walking to the store... and the empty streets... the weird sounds...

Mark.

N̶̛͕̳̲͕͖̩̪̦̖͐̂̓͌̅̀͌̚ǫ̶̙̹͔̩̰́̊͆̄̃t̨̠̣͓̫͕̼͙̅͋̃̈ q̴̬̝̘̱̝̌̍͒̈̈͡͠ụ̵̢̺̻̬̬͈͑̋̾͗̓̈́̓į̣̗̼̿͊͗̉͟͟͞͡͝ţ̢͕̪̖͇̣̯͔͌̐̆͒̃̈̅͊͘͟ē͚͉̘̦̪̯͙̂̌̑͊̕

The voice made Jack jump again, making him stop just a couple of steps away from the door.

"What?" He questioned, both confused and frightened by the mysterious and possibly imaginary voice.

T̷̛̮͔͉͔͕̹͕̥̩̞̓̑̒̍͒̌̋h̛̗̥͍̪̳̝̭̱̹͂̔̉̉̓̍̆ã̸̢̪̠̠̮͙̪̜̫̭̉̔̉͌͆̃͌̈́t̢̧̙̤͈̞͉̮͖͌̊͞͡ͅ w̷͙͖̬̞͓̦̏̈̃͋̚ǎ̞͚͎̞̤̹̾̽͋͌̉s̶̨̳̬̮̞̻͈͆̓͛̄̄͞ṇ̶̡̯̺̳̭̯͚̠͑̈́̌̓̌͡͠ͅ'̬̻̝̮̙̗̪͕́̄̇̓̒͋͠͝ẗ̵̩̬̣͇̭̰͎̣̮̰́̅̓́̄͘͝ M̢̳͔̠͙̤̞̖̑͋̊̅̆̇̔̈͂̎ạ̧̭̳̤̥̬͎͕̜̿̿͂͘͘r̭͖̩͍͍̈́̓͐̆̅̇̕̕͡ͅk͚̮̭̙̭̯̙̩͈͐̿̓̒̚͢͠͞ ȳ̨̛̞̣̹͔̫̹͊͊̅́͐̏̕ͅͅơ̶̫̫̼̫̤̥̖͙̠̄̂̋͗́̆̂͢͠ṷ͔̳̹͎͕͐͒̅̊̉̏̕̕ s̴̡̨̙͖̤̮̩̟̻̄͛̿͆̓͌̽a̭̱͇͇̙̣̙̞͊̃̈͜͡͡w̥̦̱͌̐̆̾͆̕͟͝ͅ t͉̲̤̹͉̞̹̂͑̈͂̚ͅḩ̷͈͔̲͖͉̣͕̀̄̓̊̇͂̀ę͈̦͈͙̍̊͐͋͗͜͝͠ͅ o̴̘̲͈̫̹̥̹͈͌̿̎̍̌̉͋̕͢ṱ̤̣̭̪̐̃͛͋̈͢͠h̩͓̪͉͔̜̣͓̄̿̈̓͐̒̎̈̚e̡̝̝̞͔̐͌̈̓̊͐̇͐̑͜͢͜r̨̦̲̺̖̓͆͑̔̇͋̈́͘͠͝ n̡̧̤̘͙̾͒̽̽̈́͞i̧̟͉͙̫̓̈́̓̐͢͡g̸̮̖̖͓̯͇̳̾͂̄̎͠h̝̻̦̙̾͊͛̆͘̚ͅt̵̞̻̦͕̼͌̀͌͆͐͟.̡̺͖͖͇͈͓̥͒̓̒̀̎

Spinning in a circle, Jack searched for the source of the voice yet again, but still ended up with the same result as last time. He was still alone in the room.

I̭̰̖̖̬̖͇͑̍̊͊̎͛͠'̶̨̡̞̘͇̳̝̹̎͋̊̊͝m̨̥͉͎͒̂̽̾͑͐͐͢ͅ ĩ̴̢̪̖̲͉̌̇͛̇̃͠ń̵̛̼̤̯̫̇̋̕͜ y̵̞̣̭̭̖̥̑̽͗͆̐̍̉̕ͅo̡̡͚̪̱̻͔̖͒͌̀̏͆̏̓͋͑͢ú̡̬̤̘͈͂͋͆̌͗͆̒r̛̹̤̣͎̰͈̉̇̏̌̅͌͛͌͟͟ ȟ̵̥͍̬̺̞͛̈̚͜ę̷̻̩̰͖͎͎̎̆̔̌̽̒̊̉͗͟a̴̻̙̳̯̦͙̹̮̅̉͘͡d̴̠̥̤͙̯̹̹̱͒̓͌̒̕͜͞,̧͈̻͇͖̠̣͋͗̈́͂̚ͅ d̫̯̯̤̣̮͋̽̽̒͢͠i̢̧̩̬̳̞̱̤̾̿͛͑̓͗̃̚͞p͎̰̩̺̰̭͗̃͒͝s̨̡̞̪̟̳̟͗̑͑̓̅̏͜͟͝ͅȟ̤̺̯̮̫͔͗͊̋̂į̛͇̰̦͖̘̤̤̥͔͆̄̌͝͠t̵̥̞͎̘̓̿̋̄̋́̓͜.̧̭̣̫͉̓́̉͑̿͂̚

Jack decided to ignore the insult and focus on the fact that _he was hearing voices in his head._

"Haha, very funny," he waveringly stated, praying this was all a joke. "Whoever you are, you can come out. You're not going to scare me."

B̸̩̬͕̗̘̮͆̔̾ẽ̷̢̛̜͍͈͈̳̘̀̍̾̕̕͠l̙̺̫̼͖̊̈́̒͌̏͘̚͜͟i̷͎̝̼̻̩͕͆̋̽̏͌͐̓̚͡e̴̛̬͉͔̟̔͐̈̓͟͢v̧̛̘͓̯͈̞̲̘̓͒̆̿͝͡͝͡ȩ̴̛̗̘͓͖̝̠̤͙͎̌̆̊͆̎͐̕ m̸̡̩͖̯̞͎̟͍̦̑̈́̌͌̅͆ę̶̨̧͖͖̦̣͍̱͒̋̊̿̅͌̕͟,̸̧̟̜͓͍͛͋͂̎̈́̕̕̚ í̴̪̗͓̦͚̠̳̠̰́̔̿̈́̉̈́͌͘͢͠f̢̥̙̦̞̲̰̟̾̓̒̾̏̆͜͡͞ Ḭ̷̢͎̯͓̰̜͌͑͛͐̈̽̈́̽͝ c̵̫̜̣̯̻̓̅͌̅͑̋͑̕ò̵̜̘̯̦͕̭̠̆̈̅͗̈̊̔u̖͉̪̘̘̺͓͇͙̿͐͑̾̅̕͜͡͡͞ḽ̷̡̺̺̯͈̩̬̽̎͗̓̈́̎̆̒̕͟͜͡d̴͓̪̖̩̺͙̯̙̲̽̔̔̾̃͌̈́̓ c̶̡͓̱̞̖͎̜͒͆̓͊̃̒̚r̲̫͈̘͕̻̊̽͆̽̆͛͑ả̤̥̬̻͔̊̒͋̾̅̏̀̚w̴̨͎͖͍̼͒̌͐̋̒̋̇̓͢l̰͙̬͙͔̤̓̀̔̋̆͂͘ o̴̫̯̯̳̻̪͕̗̊̑̀͞ṳ̶̭̙̠̝̱͂͛̐̏̈́͒̎̐͒͡t̨̺̙̻̘̃̇̈̈̾͠ o̴͙͖̘͇̫͙̒͌͊̓̚͞͝f͓̼̩̟̘̾̃̍͐͛̓̓͜ y̨̡̡͈͎̻̰̙̟̻͂̃̓͆̈́̋͒̄ō̧̦̻̻͔͎͕̹̝̿̆͛͐̅͠͞û̬̱̮̪̓̆́͆̾̑͌͟͠r͚̼̘̩̲̓͊̌͐̏̏̍̂̚ h̛͎̦̭̣͍̫̺̪͛͂͒͛̕͡ͅͅe̸̢̛̟͕̮̒͐́̈͒͜͝a̶̧̧̯̟̩͓̖̲͋̍̽͡ḋ̡͚̳̘̆̓̌͗̔̇̒̕͟͞ İ̢̛̛͈̖͔̫̉̓̐̿̌͘ w̵̢͖͙͈͉͔̩̦̖̆̀̉̉͐̾͋͛͊͞ö̞̪̙̩̹̜͔͓̤̐͌͒̇͗̄u̴̳̘͚̖̫͛̊̈̈͆͜͢l̡̠̜͖̭̄̾͂̃̉̅̀̆d̫̫͈͉̉̍͌̊̑͌̍̐̿͘ͅ.̠̮͈̖̮̺̻͋̊͑̏̽ 

So, it was in his head after all. Oh God, he'd lost it hadn't he? He must have blacked out and murdered someone in this room. Probably tortured them beforehand too. How else would there be all this blood? But that blood couldn't possibly be all from the same person. He must've done it to multiple people. He couldn't believe this was happening. He was a fucking psychopath, a monster, a kill-

A hysterical and psychotic giggle interrupted Jack's panicked thought process.

I̮̩̣̮̫̖͔̻̠̊̄͊̊̚̕f̹̮̙̘̳̳̫̠͒̋̑̉̚͡ͅ y̵̙̘̫͙̭̭̞͍̻̫̐̇͂̇̕͞͝͠ơ̶̢̠͙̫̣̺̪̝͎̽̾̓͋̋̍̽͘͞ū̸̫͉̬̯̬̟͂͊͒̒̇̈̓͞'̗͈̝̠̌͛̋̑̕͠ͅr̰͙͕̻̮͎̹̩̹͊̓̈̅́̿̚̚͢͞ë̴̯̰̻̤́̊̊̽̽͂̅͘̕ͅ t̶͉̘̥̜̗̞̼͇̺̋́͒͐̇͟͠h̻͇̝͓̮̫̦͊͛̇̄̉̾͞ͅi̢̛͔̘̟̺̗̻̦̝͊̅̿̂͑̚̕͞s̷̨͎͙͉͔̤͖̬͍̃̄͊̕͡ s̨̛̲̩̦̺̏̔̂̾͋̏̈́̋͊c̤͇͎̮̦̓͌̂̕͘͡a̢̖̦̞̮̞͈̽̍̐͊͘r̛̥̖͉͚̳͎̗͉̠͍̍̈́͗͊̎̈e̸͇͍̭͍̓̒͗͑̚͢d͓͈̗͚͇͎̹̋̇̈́̐͐̋͐ n̢̳̻͍̖̘̼͆̀͐͋̈̕̚͡͞͠ỏ̷̩̱̹̲͉̠̽̈́̏͑̀̈́̅̄̾͢w̷̛̖̩͓̲̘͍͇͐̅͗́̓̽͐͟͡,̡͎̯̱͖͆̃̀̊̽̉̆͜͜͝ w̷̨̟̤̥̫͗̐̏̄͒̊̽ͅȃ̞̤̤͇̲̫̲̒̔̽̒͑͛̎͛î̻̱̯̲̫̲̹̣̑̿̆̄͗̂ţ̸̱̳̜̳̜̭͉͖͉̓̈́̽̓̏͞ ų̞̟̝̠̼̹̝̹̀͆̑̽͠ņ̯͔̫̭̉͑̒̊͝ẗ̵̢̨̨̜̙̠̟̗̰̍͂͛̊͗͑́͜ḭ̜̯̜̟͔͊̂̋̕̚͜l̦̤͉͔̹͕͉̤̓̍̾̿̿̎͑͐̚͜͠ y̸̹͍̥̰͂̒̏̽̽̂̿̊͟ỏ̡͈̲̟͂̐̽͑̚͢͝ͅu̡̖̤̻̼̯̒̈̉̒͊͜ f̵̗̖̯̯̟̹͍̼͑̂̇̽̆̅͡͠͞î̴̡͉̤̫͓̫̟͕͇̔͗̃͐͟͡n̶̡͕̼̜͇͓͇̮̬̑̐̏͊͟d̨̙͇̟͕̑̏̂͛̽̄̽͗̔̿ͅͅ ţ͉̫̺̬̜̱͓̬͚̈̈́̇́̅͆̂͠͠h̵͓͖̼̼͔̄̂̈́̒̃͌ẹ̷̢̭̣̟̥͕̣̾̇̔̍͆̀̐̂̑͞ b̶̨̢̮̠̭̗̫͉̱͂̑͒͂̔̆͌͠͠o̴͇̗̝͕̣̟̽̎̉͌͟͟͜͝d̵̖͙̮̫͇̬͈̈͒̌̍͊ͅͅy̱̝̦̖̭͎̽̈͌̃͋̽̑̏̇.̷̨̡̛̛̤̤̘̦̼̠͕̪͛̓̐̌̊͋̑

Just the mere mention of a body was enough to make Jack's heart stop.

"What body?"

Immediately after Jack asked the question, he saw it.

There, slumped against one of the metal tables and facing away from Jack, was a body. A motionless, lifeless, soulless body.

He didn't have the strength to get any closer to it.

P̨̨̼͖̜̐̀̆̑̚o͚̤̞͈͍̣͉͒͛̅̎̎̏͛̓̕͠ͅͅo̵͔̲̤̞̬̖͊́̈́͑͑̅̽͡ͅr̢̩͙̟̞͉̝̬̆̆̈́̌̈ S̶̹̭̫̲͙̱͂̏̈̀͋͛͟͟͝͝ȩ̛̹̤̺̝̩̂͐͛̑̀ṫ̶̤̖̦̗̹̟̾̾́̄̃͑͝h̷̨̖̹͈̮̾̒͂̓͝ n̶̳͇̙̹̂̃̓͑̔̓͘͟e̡̗̻̪̣̜͖̻̥͌̐͌̐̐̂̓̊̐͠v͖̮̖͚͕̈́̐́̈̅̓̽͘͢͝ȩ͕̥̹̱̻͙̰͖͌̈͐͐̈́̀̒͜r̵̡̨̨̞̝̭̟̗̳̉̄͒͂̾́̋͛ s̫̗͈̫̣͓̺̼͚̈́̾͊̎̔̂̃͡t̵̡̢̡͓̘̜̯̘̑̏͌͆̔͟o̴̡̮͔̖̝͚͉͐͒̑̏͛̿͋̕͢͡ǫ̷̢̦͍̗͂̐̉̌͒́̆̓̅͢d̸̨̢̖̼͔͈̀̔̉́̓̍̎̍ à̡̨͓̺̙̦͌̂͞͝ c̠̗̱̦͙̄̆̐̿̃̈h̢̧̻̪͓̫̳̿͊͂̀̽̉ͅḁ̸̢̣̤͇̜̮̲̙͔̾͆͊͐̀̔n̸̢̨̢͈̺̠͑̏͗͐͂̚c̨̰̜͕̤̙̫͆̽̀̿́̓̐̓͟͞ê̸̘̘̟̬̟̍̇̈́.̴̧̧̧̤͍͓̇̾̌̚͢͢ 

Seth? Was that his name?

I̷͚̮̥͓̮̞̊̓͌͆̑͟'̵̧̨̡͕̞͔͔̜̈́̓͐̏͑̾͞ḑ̴̱̰̦̟͔̬̰͎̪̑̊̂̏̄̑̔̋̕ s̥̜̤̝̤̈́̈́̊͢͝a̛̛̻̝͈̳̮͖̒̾̃̑́͝y̴͉̞̰͍̱͙͚̗͊͐̂̊̎̏͢͜͞ t̷̮̜̺̘͉͖̩̜̊̈͂̅͗̇̂͟ͅẖ̨̛̜̰̠͇̙̎͌̂̄̽͜͡a̗͍̠͍͖̓̓̔̔͂͂̿̒̕̚͟ṯ̶̼̱͉̌̈̊́͘̕ͅ Į̦̼̣̻̿͐́͘̕ f̶̛̬͉̯̠̳͍̥̬̻̒̎͗́͗̐̏ȅ̵̠̤̭͓͓̹̪͛͒̀̏͟͜ȇ͚͚̺͚̹̀͛̌͆ͅͅl̨̥̙̩̮͇̐̐͂̽́̋̀̅͜͝ͅͅ b̵̮̘̗͓͔̥͎̮̈̿̔͐̀̈͟a̴̡̖̟̝̪̠̼̠͆̽̃͒̑̿͝ḓ̴̨̮̘̖͍̥͑̓̾̎̎̽͌͡,̴̨̥̞̞̲͓̫͋̌̿͟͠͠ ḃ̴̨̢̨͎̖̼̳͔̽̀̍̽̚͘̚͡ü̷̧̝͍͕̲͛̉̇̑͛͡͝ţ̴̢̪̼͕̩̝̺̪̽͌̅͌̿͒͘̚͜͞ t̷̛͚̠͚̫̫̳̖͆̉͋̆͋͆̽̆̋h̵̙̗̬̙̯̯͔̬͑͗͊͋̎̓̎ȃ̶͉̤̪͖̲̦̅̉̽̎̐̓͘͜t̼͕̮͇̰̔̔̽̾̄͜͝ͅ ẃ̸͎̼̟̬̞̿̏̓̋͜o̡̧̞̬̹̭͇̪̖͈͊̑̾̃͌̇̈́̇͞͠u̵̝̲͈̮͗͐̋̅͢l̷̺̜̲͍̙̇̎̅̋̓͛͘d̷͔͉̗̹̹̤͛̐͋̎͛̊͞ b̡̳̻̘͈̫͉̃̃̓̋̕̚͘̚͞ē̛̞̮̦̩͈͎̉͗̐̈́͢ a̡̜̟͎̘̲̻͙͈̱̾́̎̉͘̕ ĺ̛̳̜͚͚̳̹̞̉̄̈́́̾i̴̻̱͉̙͂̒͂͑͗ͅe͚͉̱̗̪͖͛̅̇͐̑.̧͈̪̬̲̻̞̃̃̿̍͗̌̋͢͜ 

Jack couldn't handle anymore of this. He had to get out of this room, away from the body, and somehow away from the voice in his head. He resumed his previous action and started walking out the door, almost making it out before the voice said something that made Jack pause one final time.

I̢̘̘̱͓̥͍̯̱͋́̌̋͂̂͜ ŵ̧͙͈͔̪̟̙̫̍͑̑́̔͢͞ͅó̠̙͎̮̖̺͚͊̇͋͊̄͌͒͘͡ù͚͓̪̟̞̗͆̐́̈́͗͋̕l̶̰̳͕͚̟̉͑̒͋͞d̛̼͓̣̹̼̥̤͓̎̈́̑̋͑̋͡͝ͅṉ̷̢̡̺̻͓̞̂̅̍͗̓̉̈́͋̕͟'̷̢̪̰̭̣̲͖̻͌̊̍̀̇͆̎͑͠ͅt̶͓̥̬͖̜͇͍̽̂̑̂̃̾̋͟͜ ḓ͔̤̜͈̫͐̏̎̌̔͞o̮̫̯̥̮̹̖͑̔̅͗͛̑͝͝͠ t̹̻̫̳̉̉͒̈́͑̿̚͟͞͞͠h̸̨̰͈̰̠͎̰̜͚͆̀̓̋̄̈́̑͢a̶̺̗̥͍̹̜̥̒̈̎̆̒̌͌̓͟͞t̵̛͉̣̦͕̥͋̒̉̈́͟͢ ḯ͙͈̩͙̼͖̫̏͗͑̑̽̚f̢̨̡̗͚̠̔̂͛͌̋̕ͅ I̸̡̢̭̰̙̪̎̀͋̾̉̅͢͡͡ w̸͇̬͖̲͓̝͆̍͂̄̊e̡̳̩̯̱̿͆͑̆̽̚͜͞ͅr̷̺̼̰̥̯̻͋͋̔͘͘ê͈̤͓̠̳̰̬͒̓̂̔̇̊̔͒͠ y̡̺͕̟̫̜̏̍̂̓͑͛͂͞o̶͖͓̗̮̙̦͒͊̑͘͢͞͞ų̡̯̠̫̜̜̯̎̓̍͌̀͐͟.

D͍̣͉̥̾́̂̌̅̚͢͝͝ơ̸̢̥͕̣̭̞̰̻̻̏̉̋́͒̄n̵̻̪̳̭̦͋͋͑̓̄͞͞͞'̨̨̱͖̼̈́͋̽̂́̐͌̿͜͞ͅt̸͙͙̟̘̘̞̺͔̓͗͌̂͆̓̆̍͘̚͟ y̶̳̝̜͙̣̙̺̿̉̈͟͟͟͡͡o̷̢͙̙̲͍̹͖͐̓͂̿̂̉̃̌̇͘͢ṳ̴̧̢̡͖̘̩̠̎͐̇̈́̕͘ w̢͚̹͍̲̔͊͐̾͞a̸͈͙̮̹̠̟̗̦͍̎͐̎̏͂͘͜͞͞͝n̨̜͕̥̅̓̏̾̽͜t̨̘͚̩̥̙̬̾̂̃̐͐̓́͘͘͟͜͡ͅ t̺͍̩̫̼̝̒̇̍͐͘o̳̯̱̺͉͕͙̍̋̆̌͑̓͜ s̶͍̜̟͚̰̏͋̈͂̅̚e̵̬͇̭͙̦̮̳̱̊̐̄̊̆̀͌̏͟͡ę̷̨̝̼̪̦̬̰̯͗͆̍̽́̆̕͜ y̷̛̯̬̠̳̳̜̝̼͑͂̈̉̄̉̃̄ō̢̪̙̰̠͉̞͈̊͋́̌͟͟ų̵̬̥̳̪͙̤͑̒̀͌͂̉͞͡͡r̵̛̝̮͇̫͔͓͛̂̐̅̑ f̠̥̳̪̘̳̳͂̽̅̀̐̐r̢̢̥̺̩͋̌̄͛͗͠ͅȋ̵͙͚̹̣͉̮͌̇̐̆͒͢͟͜͜ę̖͚̝̺̩̭͆̇̐̀̓͟n͍̘̮͙͙͋̂̒̇̀̚d͕͕͓͖͇͗̏̎̽͆̊̏̂̏͟͟͞s̴̨̳̥͎͕̥̬̬̄̌̉̆̃͛̚?̧̮̣̙͈̺̩͉̮̋͌̐̐͆̕͞ͅ

_ Friends? _

"Jack?"

The voice that called out this time definitely wasn't coming from his head. It came from behind him.

The confused and scared man turned back towards the room he wanted to leave so badly and found that the other door, the one on the opposite side of the room, was now open. And standing just in front of it was a haggard-looking and blood-soaked Ethan.

"Ethan?"

Without a moment's hesitation the two ran to greet each other, meeting in the middle of the room and immediately hugging despite the gore that covered both of them.

"We thought you were dead. You weren't moving... you weren't even breathing."

_ What? _

Y̵̜̦̹͕͚̫͑̍͗̓͆̅͒̆̌̚͢͢͢ŏ̢̞̲̫̣̰̫̼̠͙̌̒̊̎̒̂͘u̫̝͍̺͕̫̜̐̇̓̓́̆̾͋̔'̸̢͕̜̟͖̖̲̼͖̜̏͆̍͆͡r̷̢̡̤̼͍̳͖̋̍̽̀͘͠e̸̥͚͚̣̤͖̙̜͑̐̇̃͝ w̞̩͕̤̦͈̒͋̊̄͊͘̚͘͘͘͢͢ͅḝ̴͍̻̘̖͍̹̫̈́̄̇̔͗̀͂͢l̷̢͚͎͓͊̅͛̆̏̑̊̽͟͜ĉ̟̼͎͚́͌̽̎̚͘͢ő̸̢̨͈̦͈̙̭̅̎̈́͗̽͛̓́ḿ̢͇̖̖͎̲̂͐̃͛̑̊̚͟ę̵̦̯̹̪͛͑̑͌͐̕͡͡.̷̧̛͕͕͎̙̟̎̀̈͊͜

"How are you alive?"

"I... don't know." Jack replied. Even though the thing in his head had just hinted at having something to do with his supposed reincarnation, Jack wasn't entirely sure how the creature had made it happen.

Ethan looked at him with confusion, but only for a moment. It was quickly replaced with inordinate relief. 

"Whatever. So much crazy shit has happened that you being alive again isn't a ridiculous idea."

Jack knew those words were supposed to be reassuring in a way, but they didn't help his state of mind in the slightest. The statement only reminded Jack of the blank gaps in his memory, where he did God-knows what to God-knows who. He would have to get Ethan to explain it all to him later, because while he might not like what he found out, knowing about it couldn't be worse than having it hidden from him forever.

"We should get out of here," Ethan said before Jack could ask any questions. "This dimension creeps me out, and this room is even worse. And I think everyone else will be really glad to know you're alive." 

_ Just ignore the fact that he used the word dimension. Just ignore the fact that he used the word dimension. _

Ethan started walking back towards the door he'd entered from, grabbing Jack's arm gently in an attempt to get him to follow. This normally would've been annoying, as nobody liked being dragged places, but this time around Jack didn't mind it. In fact, he probably needed it. He was in such a broken state that he didn't think he would be able to put one foot in front of the other on his own anymore.

There was just one last thing in this room that was bothering him.

"Ethan? What about the-"

"The body?" Ethan cut him off, stopping and turning around to face Jack with a sorrowful expression. "I know. We all know. Seth's been dead awhile."

So, the voice had been telling the truth. His name really was Seth.

Ethan stated walking again, talking over his shoulder one last time before they were finally out of the wretched red room.

"And he's not the only one who's dead."

* * *

 

Ȉ̶͓̰̟̥̰̜͋̉̍̄̊́ a̼̯̭̮̜̠͉̯̔̿́͂̐͝m̰͙͙̬͖͙͆͑̒̾͑͊̓͟͝ y̛̟͇̭̬̱̹̼̜̦̽̓̑͊͌͆͘̕͟ǫ̴̧̗͉͖̗͇͙͂̌͛̏͌̕̕͝u͕͍̹̝͍͚̼̪̲̓͂͐͆̇̈̐͜͝.̵̡̨͇̤̤̯̩̫̓̆̇͊̓̓͌̚

Ȧ̴̧̬̠̠̟͎̟͛̓̒͠n̢͇̘̰̪̝̠̯̄̐́̈́̇̀̒͘͡ḍ̙͇͓̙̰͎̿̈̑̓͆̽̄ y̷̡̞̪̺̣͔̦̖͂̾̆͛̿͠ỏ̶̩͔̳̣̥͈̖̈̈́̃̓̓̍̚͘͡ǔ̵̢̙̥̭͎̣̖̹̟̽͛̕̕͠ ȧ̢̛͔̘̟͖̹̬̓͌͐͢͜͡r͙̺͖̼̞͇̔̌̉͒̎͂̈̽e̴̞̻̣̟͉̐͆̌̾́ m̧̠͎̮̼̩͉̥̞͓̊̏̒̑̓͑̾̕ȩ̴̨̯̪̥̱͎̺͈͋̔̃͊̔͌̚̕͞.̧͇̜̻͚̗̠̘͇̦͌̾̆̐̉͑͌͘͠

O̹͎̳̫̦̩̤̹̰̜̍̎̃͑̽̊͛̃ų̸͙̩̭͙̬͓̆̈͑̿͌͢r̷̡̧̺̬̙̝̙̦̺̃̈́͒͌̒ ạ̵̭͎̠͙̳̄̆̄̐̅͗ư̶̡̤̹͚͕͖͓̂͂̏̾̽͘̚r̷̛̼̺̤͖̤͐͢͡͞a̵̧̧̛̝̞͓͆͋̍̕͜s̱̝̭̲͚͈̪͒̄̆̏̽͞ a̢̡̢̧͚͖̤̦̺̾̓̅̋̊͆̉̂͞ŗ̰̥̩̥̹͕͆͂̔̌̐̃͝ě̢͕͕͈̗̓̄̍̀̐̅̂͞͠ i̙̳̭̩͍̫̊͆̄̿̾̑͘͝͡͠ṇ̢͈͍̮̺̬͐͑̂̓͗͗͑͜t̸͈͇̼̲́̍͌͛̓͞͠ͅe̡̢͖̱̬͔̮̾̇̕͟͜͡͠ͅr̵̢͇͇̻̮̯͉͐̿́͌̒̊͢͝͞ţ̜͔̩̻̦͑͛͊̈́̂w͔̳̰̺̙͔͔̳̐͋͒̒̓̾̍͜ͅi̜̗̝̺̭̜̽̿̌̋̉͒͘͢ͅn̛̝̫̠͉͇̣̙̗͑͋͂̿̋͑͠ê̴̜̻̜͈͈̎̽̅̈̏͌͘͜d̵̢̧͍̮̤̪̐̍͊̌͞ͅ.̸̤͓̹͓͉̼̱͇̒̑̅̈̅͆̉̂͟͝ͅ

T̡͉̟͎͉͍̞̊̎̅̿̇͗̉́͜͡h̵̝͚̻̼̯̄͋̾́̽̔͛̃͊͢r̢̢̛͓͍̻̯̍̎̓̊o̡̩̣͍̮̦͕̦̔͒͒̏̍͗ų̮̫̣͑͊̈̆̕̕͢͝g̵̨̩̥̩̙̼͎̝̜͋̇̽̋̓͌̈́̅͂ͅḩ̻̳̞̮͓̪͕͉̿̎̅̇̂͒͟ t̸̤̟̩͔͂͌̈̌̔̊̒͒͟͠h̴̟̘̮̞͕͕̝̞̙̑̌̏̊̒ę̛̛̪͈͎͔̭͔̈̂͆̕ͅ m̸̧̗̺̙̰̤͍̥̮͉͗́̽̎̏͒̚a̡̮̪̲̳̻̺͐̂͋̌̓̅͡ǵ̵̛͍̱̯̬͚̗̌̔̈́̉́̔͢͞i̜̺̳̠̮̭̎̑͋͐̔̋̒̚͘͟͡ç̺͕͙͓͆͐̉̍͐͛̇͘͡͡ õ̡̖̱̣̫͍̾̐̓͡f̴̡̢̝͈̙̭̝̤͇̥̿͆͛̒̂͌̕ b̸̼̬͙͙̲̤͊͛̏̎̊̀̚̕l̸̢̦̝̺̙̰̔͗͌̆͟͝ȏ̳͔̗̠̺͔̥͓̖͊̌̓̂o̗͓̜̞̠̎͊̾̀͆͠d͕̩͎̗̣̘͊͒̒̄̽̓͋ ạ̳̤͓̤̝̥̺̐͆̍̽̆̉͐̆́̄͟n̨̢̡̰͙̲̬̑͆̒̓͟d̤͔͉̺̗͋̿̌͝͝ i̴̢̘̯͉̣͎̯͙̘̐̅̉̎ṅ̵̮̰̣̻̪̭͆̀̏́͟͠ͅk͔̙̘̞̪̬͈͕͑̿͌̚͘͟

T̡̧̛̼͉̮̥̔͑̿̅̔̍͜͠h̭͕̳̱̭͑͛͒̄͆̏͟͞e̘̖͓͇̟̘͍̔̆̓̍̓͟ n͈͇͈̭͚̠̯̹̥̾̆̾̿̓̂̀͢͠͡͠ä̴̧̨͖͈͇̰̩͙̫̻͊͆̇̈́͒̂̐m̴̧͖̲͖͇͆͋̚͝͝ẻ̴̛͕̞̲͓͔̣̠̫̽̐̅̔͝'̴̡̧̛͚̝͙̰̙̿͛͗̚͞s̶̨̯̥̖͎̜̫̝̼̝̾̎͂͆̄̕͘͝ Ä̷͇̖̩̞̬̝̥̪̌̎͐̄͗̆͠͡ñ̨̧͈͔͖͍̄̔̋̄̈͘t̴̢̛̳̮̪̺̥̋̎̂̅͞į̶͈̯̗͕̐͛̾̑̄̊̿͘͘s̩͇̼̼̙̻͓͍͉̏̎̒͂͜͡e̵̛̯͉̘̗̒̈́̈͗̀͌̉ͅp̧̡̜̬̭̯̀̒̆̊̎͛̓̄̽t̸͚̭̺̬͔̩̂̿̎͗͘͟i̢̬̣̻͍͚̟̙͖̓͆̑̽͛͢c̨̞̤̹̍͐̽͘͘͢ȩ̗͕̰̳̔͊̍͒̍͌͟y̮͈̣̝̫̘̾̾͛͞͝͞ͅë̵̢̮̳̼̠͚̳̯́̓́́̉͂́͝.̴̡̞̭̗̍̽̽̔͒ͅ

Á̤͚̟̮͓̎̑́́̾̋̉͢͠͞n̶͙̩̘̮̣͔͋̏͐͂̒̒͝͠d̸̪̠͓̘̯͖̄͛̉́̎͛̍͒ͅ Į̧͎͇̥͙̰͖̩̱̾̈́̎͐͌͆̓̕'̛̼͍̻̱̜̠͒̔̈̃͢l̷͉͎̗̞͚͙͍͇͖͈͛̎̊̚͡l̬̟͍̜͕̰͋̌͋̍͘͜ m̶̤͈̭̯̗̟̟̱̊̂͛͒̒͢a̪̜͎̘̖̎͊̾̾̏͜k̨̙̥̬͈̺̓̎̌̈ȩ̸̫̬̣̥̃͛̉̕͟͞ s̨͓̟̱͒̇̓̈̌̈́̕͟ṵ̞̼̙͇͆̂́̾͘͢͢͠r̢̝̤̮̘̭͋͗͌̎̐͗͒͋́͟e̵̺͕̣̙̣̭̙̗̹̼͊͊̐̎̏͊͡͞ ÿ̯͙̰̼̣̹́̍̇̽̅̽͝ö̴̩̻͈̩̥͍̺́̈̍̆̆͜͞ͅų̵͚̤͈̫̞̋̑̏͒͛͊̔͟͝ ḑ̘̬͉͚̮̝̂́͌́̽͠ͅó̴̱͉͓͕̤͓͛̓͒̈͆ň̵̢̻̣͍͕̀̽̿͑̓͐'̛͈͇̤̳̳̱́̀̃͠t̷̨̤͇̖̺̰̖͖̻̐̽͆̋͒͘͢͡ f̡̟̦̰͓̣͆̑̽̌̅͂̊̂̅̊͢͟õ̸̟̤̪̠̯̏͛̉̆͒͋̽͡ŗ̯̭̞̞̯̳̜̩̓̓̇̔̅̊͞g̸̟̰̯̦̞̺͋̓̂̈́̓̎̈́̂̓̍ȅ̡̘͍̳̿͆̑̃̄̕͢͜ṱ̷͔̯̮̺͎̱̳̅̊̑̀̔͝͞ i̫̹̤̤̝͚̰̬͇͐̍̂͗͗̽̑͠͝ţ̷̡̯͎͙̌̅͂̓̄̊̒̚͢ͅ.̢̲̺͈̲͉̑͗̈̐̐̊̕̕


	27. Epilogue

Nobody likes sad endings.

This has been a fact since the dawn of time.

Nobody likes seeing someone die, or watching a relationship fall apart, or seeing the villain reign victorious.

Nobody in their right mind at least.

But just because you don't like something doesn't mean the world will suddenly care enough to prevent it from happening.

The world doesn't care about who lives and who dies.

And Tyler knew that all too well.

They'd all thought things would work out, that they could get a happy ending purely because they wished for one. But it didn't happen. Because Mark felt the only way he could give them a happy ending was to sacrifice himself in order to kill Dark.

And the universe didn't give a damn.

The ending that this supernatural predicament had come to still puzzled Tyler, even though it had been several weeks since it had happened. None of them never got a proper explanation as to _why_ exactly everything ended the way it did. According to the letter from Mark that they'd found in his pocket, they were supposed to get one from Seth, but Seth was no longer around to tell them anything anymore.

So they were left alone.

No one back on Earth could explain Mark's death, which was to be expected. They ran several tests on his body (which had been disheartening to carry through the portal back to their world that they'd found, but they'd still wanted to give him a proper burial), and could only deduce that he'd suffered from total organ failure. But the thing that stumped every doctor was that Mark was perfectly healthy, with no traces of poison or street drugs in his system. To them, it appeared as though all of Mark's organs just decided to spontaneously fail at once for no reason at all.

There were only five humans alive that knew the real answer.

But of course, they couldn't tell anyone. No one would believe them.

So, they all kept quiet about it. 

They'd agreed to talk about it amongst themselves when they got back, however, which was helpful for Tyler, seeing as he had no idea what happened between when Kathryn woke up in Seth's house to when he woke up in a room full of blood. Amy ended up having to do the most explaining, seeing as she was the only one to have never been infected, which Tyler and the others knew was hard for her. Everyone insisted she didn't have to explain anything if she didn't want to, but Amy kept insisting it was fine and always continued. 

Tyler wished she wouldn't lie.

He could see how much of an impact all of this had had on her, and it saddened him. But what saddened him even more was the fact that Amy refused to admit the severity of that impact. The damage that had been done was clear for everyone to see. Everyone except Amy. And Tyler knew it couldn't be good for her to continue to deny what she felt, but nothing he said could convince her to talk things over. So, he was forced to watch as Amy continued to pretend she was fine, when the rest of the world knew otherwise.

The other person that Tyler felt this whole event had been the hardest on was Jack, who in contrast with Amy, knew absolutely nothing about what happened. Dark had manipulated Jack into going with him, and then The Author performed some unknown ritual, leaving Jack's memory of the incident almost completely blank. One minute it was a normal night, the next he wakes up in a room covered in blood with a dead body a few feet away and finds out one of his best friends is dead. Tyler knew that couldn't be easy on him mentally or emotionally, and it certainly showed afterwards. And Tyler got the feeling it would never stop showing either. Maybe it would fade away or become less noticeable, but the damage would always linger, creeping into conversation and body language.

And not only had the ordeal itself been hard for Jack, but now he had to deal with the unfortunate result of whatever The Author had done to him.

The creature known as Anti.

Everybody else had returned to normal after Dark and The Author were gone, their deaths revoking their influence entirely, but it had been different for Jack. Anti somehow lived on in his head, able to take control of Jack's body at random intervals. They all knew it had something to do with Jack's and Anti's auras, as Jack had said that Anti mentioned that their "auras were intertwined," but none of them were sure of what that something was. And with Seth gone and no one on Earth who understood any of this, they would most likely be left in the dark forever.

So far there'd only been two instances where Anti had managed to take control, but they'd thankfully been able to resolve both quickly and easily. Anti still seemed to be adjusting to have to fight for control, which benefited Jack and everyone else immensely. But everyone knew that Anti would get the hang of usurping power sooner or later, and they needed to be prepared for when he did. It had been a unanimous agreement to all keep in touch regularly, and for Jack to update them on anything odd that Anti says or does.

Ethan and Kathryn both reacted to the aftermath similarly, being that they both went silent for awhile. Their expressions were always stoic and stony whenever the incident was brought up, and even more so whenever Mark's death was mentioned. Both of them kind of withdrew from everything and everyone, not answering their phones or talking to anyone for the longest time, which had Tyler, Amy and Jack incredibly worried. Eventually, they did return to normal again, socializing and talking the way they once did, but just like with Jack the damage of what had happened over those two days would occasionally show. All it would take was one offhand comment or brief recall to those memories and they'd shut down again.

And Tyler... well, to be perfectly honest, he had no idea how he was doing.

Some days he was perfectly fine. The events that had transpired seemed like distant memories, faded and unimportant, blending into the back of his brain. He could go the whole day without thinking about any of what happened, able to pretend that everything was somewhat normal again, if only for a little while.

Those were the good days.

But then there were the bad days.

The nights where Tyler lay awake and stared at the ceiling, wanting to fall asleep but unable to thanks to his brain reminding him over and over again of what he'd done and what had been done to him. Or the nights where he could fall asleep, but was then plagued by horrible nightmares filled with the memories that had been snatched from him. The ones he wished would stay forgotten. Like what had happened in the bloody room, what he and the others had done to Seth, what he did to Mark and Amy, what happened to him the first time Dark and The Author kidnapped him and filled his bloodstream with paranormal ink.

The days that he stumbled through in a hazy mess, dethatched from reality and caught up in his own thoughts instead. The days where anytime someone asked him a question, they would have to repeat themselves several times to get Tyler to hear them, because he was so lost in his guilt and grief ridden train of thought that he couldn't focus on anything else. The days where he would just sit and stare into space with a blank and solemn expression, unable to speak anywhere from a minute to many hours.

And he wasn't the only one with bad days. Everyone in the group had them, and each of them handled those days differently. 

They would be twenty-four hour periods of sorrow.

But that's all they would be. Just periods of time. Days. Nothing more.

Because eventually they would pass, and give way to brighter times.

And the fact they those bad days would always pass gave Tyler hope. Hope that maybe one day they could get that happy ending they'd all wanted so badly.

So, he hoped that one day, things would be normal again. A new normal.

Because Tyler didn't like the normal they'd been given after Mark died.

Nobody likes sad endings.

But not all stories have a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're at the end! Thank you all so much for your support. All the hits, kudos, bookmarks, and comments honestly make me so happy, and I'll always be grateful for all of it. I hope you enjoyed and, once again, thank you for reading!


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